Dealing With the Devil
by Sand-wolf579
Summary: When Dice first entered the Devil's Casino, he hadn't expected to be forced into a job there. He also hadn't expected the work to be as good as it was. Then again, just how bad a job could it be when the description was 'the Devil's favorite? ...Really, though, it all depended on the Devil's mood.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Gee whiz, my first Cuphead story. Honestly, this idea just came out of nowhere for me. Usually story ideas take time for me to develop, and even more time for me to feel ready to write it. Sometimes though I have ideas like this that just sneak into my head out of nowhere and demand to be written on the spot. Of course, most of these kinds of stories usually only have one or two chapters, and I don't have any idea how long this story is going to end up being, so...well, it'll be an adventure.**

 **Anyways, since this story starts before King Dice begins working for the Devil, I figured that I should come up with a name to use for him. I'll only be using it in the first chapter though, so if you don't like it you'll only have to bare with it for a little bit. Anyways, for some reason the name Caleb just stuck to me. It's similar to Cabell, or Cab, as in Cab Calloway, the guy that King Dice was based off of. Also, I personally find it hilariously ironic that the name Caleb is often thought to mean or symbolize 'devotion to God'...oh, yeah, Dice is** _ **super**_ **devoted to God. He's practically a saint.**

* * *

Caleb Dice had been introduced to gambling as a child. All of the children used to sneak into the alleyways and play craps in the streets when the adults weren't looking. Ever since the first time Caleb had rolled a pair of dice and beat all of the other boys out of their coins, he had known that he had found his calling. Of course, Caleb didn't play too many crap games. The other boys seemed to think that his confidence in the game, his winning streak, and the fact that his head just so happened to be shaped like a die were all related.

They weren't. Caleb just had lady luck on his side.

Still, since it didn't take long before the other kids started to refuse to play craps with him, Caleb needed to find a new game to play. He found such a game when the town drunk had caught them playing betting on dice, and he had decided to teach them how to bet with cards instead. Caleb caught on to the rules of Blackjack quicker than any of the other boys did. He had even been able to beat the drunk in a number of deals, and that was how Caleb had won his first deck of cards.

Caleb honed his skills with a deck, and he learned not only how to play Blackjack, among other games, but how to be the dealer as well. Once again, this got the other boys to start complaining about how he was manipulating the game to his favor, but Caleb didn't listen to their complaints because by that time he was through gambling with them.

Caleb saw gambling, whether it be through craps, cards, or a simple conversation, as an artform. Why should he waste his time squatting around the streets and dirty bars to play the exact same games that were being played in the casino that was just on the other side of the island?

So Caleb left the low risk, low payoff games behind him and finally made his way to the Devil's Casino. The place wasn't by any means what he would call high class, but it was certainly better than the dirty streets, that was for sure.

Caleb had never been to a casino before, but it felt instantly familiar to him. He could recognize the different games being played on sight, and it didn't take him long for him to decide where he wanted to begin. Caleb walked right past the craps tables and headed straight for blackjack. All of the tables were filled, so he lingered around a table and just watched the game until somebody cut their losses and a seat became available.

As Caleb watched the game, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. He coined it up to just being different from the street version of the game. After watching a couple more hands though, Caleb noticed a pattern, and he knew that something fishy was going on in this game.

One of the players, some sort of serpent fellow, was winning more often than was normal. This wasn't all that uncommon, sometimes people just got lucky. Or he could just be using some kind of card counting to beat the system, but something told Caleb that that wasn't what was going on. If the man was card counting, then shouldn't the dealer have noticed it by now? Or, at the very least, be watching the man who was having a winning streak more carefully?

The dealer didn't pay any extra attention to the snake though. In fact, he didn't pay any attention to the player at all. It was almost as though the dealer was making a point to _not_ pay attention to the snake, and there were very, _very_ few reasons that Caleb could think of as to why he would do such a thing.

The first possible explanation was that the serpent was one of the casino's employees. That he was just putting up the act of being a paying customer to keep the other gamblers from winning too much and beating out the house, as well as to motivate the patrons to continue playing for just one more hand, just one more drink, because if this fellow could get a lucky streak then why couldn't they?

Caleb supposed that this explanation was possible, but he didn't think it was very plausible. If the snake was working for the house, then wouldn't it be a better strategy to have him lose every once and awhile? Let the other players take a hand and cause them to think that their luck was just starting to turn. It would keep players at the table longer, and it wouldn't lead them to get frustrated with their losses and leave while they still had a fair bit of money in their pocket.

This was what Caleb would have done. He may not be an expert in the ways of a casino, but he knew his way around gambling. He knew how to tell when somebody was on the edge about leaving or staying, and he knew how to pull them back into playing another hand or two. It was all a matter of giving the people what they wanted, without letting it be of any real consequence to you.

That wasn't what this gentleman was doing though. He was far too boastful and arrogant to be working for the house. It was as though he truly thought that he couldn't lose. And after Caleb caught a few subtle glances between the serpent and the dealer, he figured out where all the confidence was coming from. The snake wasn't the one who was counting cards, the dealer was. Whatever scheme was going on, they were _both_ involved, and Caleb was disgusted. It was the dealer's job to keep the odds in the house's favor, not in the favor of a random customer who had likely paid him off.

"Better luck next time." The dealer said sympathetically as a young couple of fork fellows left the table, grumbling about their bad luck the entire time. The dealer looked to Caleb. "Wanna join in this next hand?"

"No, I'd rather not, thank you." Caleb said curtly. "I may have come here knowing full well that I would likely lose money, but that doesn't mean that I want to play with a pair of flimflamming swindlers." All of the chatter at and around the table ceased immediately as everybody went silent. It was a bold accusation, to accuse someone that you haven't even played with of cheating. And the way that Caleb was glaring coldly at the dealer and the snake, everybody knew exactly who he was accusing.

It didn't take long for the shock to die down, and the moment that it did accusations began to fly. Most of them were directed towards the snake, though a few outraged customers were now complaining about the dealer as well. Caleb hadn't expected such a reaction, though he probably should have. Even at the bars and on the streets, people gambled until they had nothing left to lose, so they always got rather testy whenever they felt cheated out of their money.

Caleb just hadn't realized just how easily gamblers could be persuaded of something when they were feeling desperate. It was an interesting observation, to say the very least.

Caleb was finding this casino more and more interesting with every passing second. Of course, if he was going to be coming here on a regular basis, and that was certainly the plan, then first he needed to do something about the _filth._

"I want to speak to the one in charge." Caleb stated firmly. His declaration didn't get him the reaction he had hoped for, which just annoyed him. The snake, as well as a few other patrons, laughed at his request. Most of the people within hearing distance looked alarmed at his words and suddenly seemed extremely nervous. A handful of people even left the area all together.

"I'm the manager of this establishment." The dealer leaned against the table smugly. "But if you have any complaints-" The man was just teasing him at this point, and Caleb wasn't going to stand for it.

"Then I'll take them up with the _owner_ ," Caleb gave the dealer an unimpressed look. "Right after I inform him just what kind of greaseballs he's been employing."

The dealer looked absolutely infuriated, and he was likely mere seconds away from throwing Caleb right back out into the streets. The man moved, probably to do just that, but froze suddenly in place, almost as though he was being held back by some invisible force. At that precise moment Caleb felt a chill go down his spine, and he figured that he wasn't the only one that felt it.

The entire room fell into a hush. Nobody dared to even breath. The only movement anybody made was to shuffle out of the way of a tall, dark, horned creature who had seemed to appear out of nowhere. Even somebody who hadn't seen this creature even once in their life would recognize who he was. It was the big man of the casino himself, the Devil.

Caleb was in complete awe as he watched the Devil slowly approach their table. The demon lord was practically radiating with power, both of the influential kind, and the magical sort that everybody on the isles were fascinated with, though few had access to. Caleb watched as the crowds parted for this creature, and he couldn't help but wonder if they were getting out of his way because he was forcing them to do so with his magic, or if they were doing it of their own free will because the Devil had that strong of an influence of them all without even trying.

Whatever the case, Caleb was impressed, and slightly envious. The Devil had power, more than Caleb could ever dream of having. If living a life of sin and deceit could get one this kind of respect, then maybe there really was something to the whole ' _selling-your-soul-to-the-Devil'_ thing that Caleb had been hearing a lot about lately.

As the Devil came to their table, Caleb bowed his head slightly in respect to the demon lord. Feeling bold, Caleb dared to meet the Devil's eyes, and when he saw the dark creature smirking at him in slight amusement, Caleb couldn't help but smirk back. Maybe he looked like a bit of a fool, bowing his head for the king of sin, but Caleb wasn't embarrassed. The way that he saw it, anybody who had so much power was a man that was to be expected.

After a long moment of looking at Caleb, the Devil turned back towards his employee and the serpent, who were the only ones left at the table (everybody else had scurried off). "I heard there was a commotion going on out here. Care to explain?" The Devil eyed the dealer dangerously, and it was definitely not the kind of glare that Caleb would want to be caught under.

"I-it's nothing, boss." The dealer cleared his throat and stood up straighter. "This gent's just bumping his gums. Do ya want me to have the boys take him out back?" The grifter sounded much too eager to do just that. Normally Caleb would be insulted or angered by something like this, but he was much too amused by the man's disappointed expression when the Devil ignored his suggestion and turned back towards Caleb.

"What's your name, kid?" The Devil's voice was low, calculated. He spoke in such a way that made it seem like he believed he already knew everything, and Caleb wouldn't be quick to disagree with him.

"Caleb Dice, sir." Daleb inclined his head slightly again.

"So, Dice, you mind telling me what you think is going on here?" The Devil asked, though it was more of an order. Caleb was only too happy to answer him. He told the Devil what he saw, exactly what he saw. He explained his suspicions and the conclusions he had made. Every once and awhile the snake or the dealer would try to interrupt him in an attempt to give the Devil their own twist on what had been going on. The Devil silenced their interruptions with a simple flick of his claw. Caleb had the floor.

During the middle of Caleb's explanation the Devil gestured for one of his minions, a walking cigar, to come and get a cigar for him. Even with this small distraction going on, Caleb knew that the Devil was all ears. The Devil began his smoking just as Caleb was finishing up with his story. Once Caleb had shared all he had intended to the Devil took a slow drag from his cigar and then blew a ring of smoke right into Caleb's face. The dice man didn't even flinch. The smell was horrendous, but it wasn't anything that he wasn't used to.

"You certainly sound like you know what you're talking about, Dice." The Devil said smoothly. "You come to the casino often?"

I _gamble_ often, sir." Caleb corrected him. "This would be my first time at an actual casino."

"W-what?" The dealer looked outraged, and desperate. "Boss, ya can't actually be listening ta some random Joe that walked in from the streets. He's not-" The dealer suddenly paled and quite literally choked on his words as though he was incapable of speaking any further. Caleb moved his gaze from the dealer to the Devil, and the creature's annoyed expression towards his employee told him all he needed to know. The Devil was using his powers over the man to keep him from speaking out of turn. It was...absolutely incredible.

"You think you're good at gambling?" The Devil turned back towards Caleb and raised an eyebrow at him. "Why don't you show me what you've got?" The Devil snapped his clawed fingers and a small, black hole opened up in the middle of the table. The whole room suddenly felt both hot as hell and cold as ice at the same time. The uncomfortable feeling went away in an instant when the shadowy hole closed up, leaving behind a strange deck of cards that Caleb was certain hadn't been there before.

The Devil picked up the deck and offered them to Caleb, who accepted them without hesitation. "You know how to deal?"

"I've been dealing since the moment I learned the game.." Caleb said, and that was the honest truth. The Devil chuckled at his boast.

"Well then, I figure it's time to put those skills to the test." The Devil nodded towards the serpent, who shrank beneath his gaze, all signs of his earlier cockiness were nowhere to be seen. "The two of you will play a game, winner leaves, and the loser, well, I'll deal with him." The way that the Devil said this made Caleb feel as though neither option was going to be very pleasant, and he actually wasn't sure which one would be better outcome.

Despite his concerns, Caleb agreed to the game. He may be wary about the deal, but not enough so that he would back down. The snake didn't seem all that concerned about the game either, his confidence returning in an instant. After all, he had won so many previous games. What would make this one so much different?

Caleb supposed that the serpent hadn't realized the significance behind the Devil handing the deck of cards to him as opposed to the regular dealer.

"Do we got a deal?" The Devil outstretched his two hands, one towards Caleb, and one towards the serpent. The snake quickly shook his hand without hesitation, and Caleb found himself drawn to do the same, despite the quiet voice in his head telling him that he should be cautious. The Devil smirked widely as he shook their hands, and Caleb could feel the power radiating off of him again. Whatever was going on, this was more than just a simple handshake before a friendly card game.

The Devil shoved away his dealer and took a seat at the spot at the table usually reserved for the one dealing the game. Caleb reluctantly took a seat as well. He habitually began to shuffle the strange cards that had come from the darkness. It was at this instant that the snake and the dealer realized what Caleb had known since the Devil had handed him the cards in the first place.

" _H-he's_ dealing?" The serpent objected.

"Yes, he is." The Devil leveled the snake with a withered glare. "Unless you have a problem with it." The Devil's tone made it clear that any further complaint was pointless. This was the Devil's casino, and if he wanted Caleb to be dealing, then that was exactly what was going to happen. Nobody went against the Devil's wishes. Not if they valued their lives, or their souls.

Once Caleb had finished shuffling the deck he deal out the cards for a game of blackjack. Caleb and the snake each got two cards, one face down, and one face up for everybody to see. If this were a normal game they would have put in their bets before even beginning, but the bets were already set. The winner leaves, and loser is dealt with by the Devil. That was the deal.

Caleb's face up card was a 9. The snake's was a king, which had a value of 10. As Caleb was the dealer, the cheating snake had the first turn. He looked at his face down card, scowled, and said "Hit." Caleb dealt him another card. The snake raised an eyebrow when he saw his new card, and he looked quite pleased with himself. (It was a wonder how this guy had ever gotten anywhere as a gambler. His poker face was non-existent.)

The snake said "Stand." with his three cards, so it was Caleb's turn. He flipped over his second card, which turned out to be an ace, which, in this instance, would have the value of an 11. His points were brought up to 20, and he had no choice but to stand. The snake smirked smugly and revealed his two other cards. A 5, and a 6. Those numbers, along with his 10, brought his total to 21, which was the highest score one could get in this game. And, unfortunately, was better than Caleb's score of 20.

Caleb had lost the bet. He _hated_ it when that happened.

The Devil's expression about the outcome was completely unreadable. Caleb had no idea if he was pleased, amused, disappointed, or just indifferent to the whole thing. The Devil just stood up and let out another puff of smoke from his cigar.

"Well, that's that." The Devil approached Caleb and put a clawed hand on his shoulder. "You and me are going to have a talk in my office. And as for _you_ two," The Devil turned towards the snake and the dealer. "Make tracks. I don't want to see you in my casino when I come out." The dealer and the snake both looked somewhat outraged, and incredibly nervous. The Devil had made it sound like they were being banned from the casino, which wasn't exactly the reward that one would hope for after they won a bet. The dealer looked confused as to why he was being involved in this outcome as well, even though he hadn't been involved in the actual game itself. Still he didn't, or, perhaps, really _couldn't_ , argue against his boss. The dealer just led the snake out of the casino, and Caleb couldn't shake the feeling that neither of them would be back.

He wasn't going to waste his time thinking about those two though. Not when the Devil was dragging him to the back to have a ' _talk'_ with him.

The Devil's office looked much more average than Caleb had expected. It was almost disappointing. Caleb had been expecting the office from Hell, with torture devices and flames high up towards the ceiling, not...an every day office.

The Devil pushed Caleb towards the desk, and then he took a seat on his char on the other side of the desk. Caleb kept his hands behind his back and nervously shuffled the deck of cards that the Devil had handed him just a few minutes before.

"So," The Devil looked at him with a fixed glare that still was unreadable. Caleb had no idea what he was thinking or what he had planned. "You cost me my manager and a great dealer. How do you plan on making that up to me?"

"I...what?" Caleb was at a loss for words, which _very_ rarely happened. "I don't owe you anything."

"Yes, you do." The Devil insisted, and his unreadable mask slipped just enough that Caleb thought he saw a hint of amusement on his face. He just didn't know if he found the situation in general funny, or if the Devil was just looking forward to punishing him in some horrible, hellish way. Honestly, Caleb thought that either was pretty plausible.

"How is that?" Caleb asked, because if he was going to be punished by the Devil, then he at least deserved to know why.

The Devil chuckled lowly and took a slow drag of his cigar. Once again, he puffed the smoke out towards Caleb. "You accused my dealer of cheating, Dice, in front of the whole casino."

"He _was_ cheating." Caleb scowled.

The Devil waved off his words. "Doesn't matter. I'll give him and the snake the kiss off later." Caleb had _known_ that he wouldn't be safe even if he had won the bet. "The point is, I would have done that if you have just told me what had been going on in private. Instead, you made a scene, and now I have a mess on my hands. No one will want to come here when word gets out that the manager was helping a customer cheat."

The Devil definitely had a point there, Caleb would grant him that much. Still. "What do you want _me_ to do about it?"

"I want you to clean up the mess that you've put me in." The Devil grabbed a scroll of paper from apparently nowhere. He pushed it towards Caleb, who paled at the implication. He wasn't a fool. Caleb understood what it meant when somebody signed one of the Devil's contracts.

The Devil looked even more amused at Caleb's uneasiness. "Don't worry so much, Dice. This isn't as bad as you think it is." The Devil pointed his claw at the contract, drawing Caleb's attention to the writing. "All ya gotta do is work for me for a bit." A closer look showed that ' _a bit'_ actually meant ' _for an indefinite amount of time until the Devil thinks you've done enough.'_ Not quite as bad as selling ones soul, but it was definitely up there.

Caleb wanted to complain about how this wasn't fair, but he held his tongue. Of course it wasn't fair, he was at the Devil's Casino, and nothing there was fair, because it wasn't meant to be. Caleb had known that upon entering, and he had known that there would be consequences for accepting a deal arranged by the Devil, but he had agreed to it anyways. He had given up all of his reasons to complain, because he had just brought this all upon himself.

Still, he had to say _something_ , because as much as he knew he shouldn't complain about the situation, Caleb still wasn't happy about it. "And what if I don't agree to work for you?"

The Devil's eyes flashed irritably, and Caleb felt a shiver run down his spine. He had gotten the Devil barely annoyed with him, and he still felt as though it was the worst thing he had ever done in his life. Caleb didn't even want to think about what it would feel like to have the Devil actually be angry with him. Clearly, the Devil wasn't the kind of man that you wanted to upset.

"You made a bet, Dice." The Devil said in a low, dangerous tone. "The bet was that I would deal with the loser of the game. You lost, and this is how I'm choosing to deal with you. Unless you think you want to try to break your end of the bargain-"

"Of course not, sir." Caleb lowered his eyes to the desk and bowed his head apologetically. He would be a fool to back out of this deal. He really didn't have much of a choice. "When do I begin?"

Caleb wasn't looking at the Devil, but he could _feel_ his content smirk. The Devil pushed the contract and a pen directly in front of Caleb's vision. He took the pen and, after quickly but carefully reading through the contract just to make sure it wasn't any shadier than he knew it was, he signed the dotted line. The very instant that he was done it felt like a weight was lifted off of his shoulders.

"Very good, Dice." The Devil sounded _very_ pleased. "You'll be shown the ropes tomorrow." Which meant that Caleb had the whole night to think about and fret over what he had just gotten himself into.

Something told him that it was going to be a _long_ night.

"Until then," The Devil smirked wickedly and, almost as though he had summoned him (he probably did) the cigar minion walked through the door. "Mr. Wheezy will show you where you'll be staying."

"Wait... _Staying?!"_ Caleb hadn't remembered seeing anything like that on the contract. Before he could try to get a second look, or ask for clarification, or even just wonder what the hell had just happened, Mr. Wheezy had already started to lead him out of the room.

The last thing that Caleb heard before he he was dragged out of the office was the Devil's sly, teasing voice. "Good luck, Dice." Only the Devil could say good luck in such a way that it sounded like a death sentence.

Mr. Wheezy kept silent until he knew that they were out of earshot of the Devil's office, and that's when he began to run his mouth. "So, Dice, I guess you're the kid who was gumming the works on the floor."

Caleb frowned slightly. It was becoming clear to him that he was just going to be going by the name 'Dice' during his time at the casino. He didn't necessarily have a problem with it, 'Dice' was still his name, after all. He was just annoyed that he hadn't had any say in it, and he knew that objecting about it would achieve absolutely nothing. He would just have to get used to being known by just his last name.

"I would have kept my mouth shut if I had been aware of the consequences." Caleb muttered, though he knew that wasn't entirely true. He had never been able to tolerate cheaters.

Mr. Wheezy just laughed at his words. "You have no idea how many times I've heard that, Dice." Mr. Wheezy shook his head in amusement. "Don't worry so much though. The boss likes you, so it could always be worse."

Caleb was tempted to ask how Mr. Wheezy knew that the boss liked him, but then he realized that he would probably know if the Devil _didn't_ like him. And the beast had just seemed much too amused about Caleb apparently owing him. No, what Caleb really wanted to know was why the people at this casino seemed to think that ' _it could be worse_ ' was a reassuring statement. It really wasn't. It wouldn't do Caleb any good to hear about how bad it _wasn't_. He needed to know how bad it _was._

"So, what's this about me _staying?"_ Caleb asked in a clipped voice.

"Oh, everybody who works here lives here too." Mr. Wheezy said as though it was completely obvious and normal, even though it really wasn't. "The boss likes to have us around whenever he needs us, and he doesn't want to risk his debtors running away from him, so none of us can walk past the front door."

 _Why_ was the cigar saying all of this so casually? If the Devil had to worry about his employees running away, then that really wasn't a good sign as to what he had waiting for him. Of course, it didn't help that Caleb didn't exactly know _what_ he would be doing for the Devil.

"So, what's your specialty?" Mr. Wheezy asked. Caleb assumed that he was asking what he would be doing as work at the Casino. Caleb was fairly certain that the cigar had a better idea of what his job description meant than he did.

"My contract just said that I would do the Devil's bidding." Caleb said. Mr. Wheezy's eyes widened and he looked fairly impressed.

"You serious?" Mr. Wheezy whistled lowly. "So the boss _really_ likes you. I was wondering when he would be getting a new favorite."

Caleb faltered a bit in his steps. He had no idea if what Mr. Wheezy said was true or not, that he somehow _was_ the Devil's new favorite. Caleb hadn't even known that the Devil _had_ favorites. And if he did, and he was, then Caleb had no idea how he was supposed to feel about it. It was either something extremely good, because he would be treated fairly well, or extremely bad, because he would end up being the guy that the Devil punished whenever he got bored or something like that.

Caleb didn't have a clue which situation was more likely, and they both actually made him feel incredibly nervous. Still, Mr. Wheezy said it like it was a respectable, but not envied, position, to be the Devil's favorite. If Caleb played his cards right, he could go somewhere with this. He would just have to wait for a bit and learn just what it meant first. He could do that. He could be patient.

Caleb didn't know his way around the casino, which was actually a lot bigger than it looked from the outside (and it looked pretty huge from outside), but he was pretty sure that the Devil's employees didn't sleep near the bar, which was exactly where Mr. Wheezy was leading him.

"You look like you could use a stiff one." Mr. Wheezy all but shoved Caleb into a stool at the bar. He wasn't happy about being man-handled, but he didn't think he could argue against having a drink. It was a little earlier than Caleb would usually drink, but it had been a strange day. A change in habit was called for.

Mr. Wheezy continued to talk at him, even as they received their drinks from the beings working the bar, who simply introduced themselves as the Tipsy Troop. Caleb wondered just how many colorful characters the Devil had working under him. Was it just a coincidence that his employees that Caleb knew about so far all seemed to be related to some kind of vice or sin? Or was that what had caught the Devil's interest about them in the first place? Caleb hadn't even started working at the casino yet, and he already had so many questions. And as much as Mr. Wheezy was talking about what it was like to work there, Caleb could tell that he was saying little to nothing of value. He was just bumping his gums.

After awhile Mr. Wheezy grudgingly said that he had to get back to work. He vaguely indicated where the back rooms were and then left Caleb to his own devices as he returned to whatever job he had at the casino. Caleb was glad to see him go. There was nothing wrong with socializing, but there was being civil, and there was wasting everybody's time.

Caleb headed towards the back where there was a hallway with a dozen or so rooms down it. These must be the employees personal rooms. Each of the doors had a name carved in the wood to indicate who it belonged to. Caleb was surprised to see that even his name, (well, _Dice_ ,) was on one of the doors. The Devil must have worked his magic to do this.

Caleb entered his room and was pleasantly surprised to see that it was practically identical to his old room back home, except everything was nicer. There was his chest of winnings from the street and bar bets that he had made (most everything in the chest wasn't cash, and was actually of little value to Caleb, but he liked the reminder of all he had won). All of his different decks of cards, as well as playing dice and battered betting chips were sitting on the desk next to his bed, right where he always left them.

Caleb sat down on his bed and immediately began to shuffle and play with the Devil's deck of cards. The cards were stiff and didn't twist and bend as easily as a deck of cards should. He needed to break them in. It didn't matter how nice, expensive, or magical a deck of cards was, if they didn't feel right and easy to use, then Caleb just didn't use them. It was as simple as that.

Breaking in the Devil's deck gave Caleb something to focus one. The familiar, practiced motions put Caleb into an almost meditative state in which he could think about his new situation without worrying about unknown and the risks. Caleb could handle thinking about stressful things, just not while he wasn't doing anything to ground himself. It was when Caleb was bored that he really started to panic, and he couldn't allow himself to do that now.

He was already in Hell. There was no point in torturing himself even further by worrying about things that he had no control over.

Caleb hadn't planned on getting any sleep that night. He had thought that, with everything that had happened, that it would be nothing short of a miracle if he slept a wink that night, and miracles definitely weren't something that one would find in the Devil's casino. As unbelievable as it seemed though, Caleb must have fallen asleep at one point in the night, because he woke up a few hours later.

Caleb felt stiff (he had fallen asleep in an awkward position), dirty (he _hated_ to sleep in the clothes that he had spent all day in) and nervous (for obvious reasons). Despite how uncomfortable it would be, Caleb knew that the fastest way to relieve the tension in his muscles caused by a bad sleeping position was by getting up and moving. And regardless of who his boss was, Caleb wouldn't feel nearly as nervous and wary once he actually starting working.

As for his little problem with the clothes he was wearing...well, the Devil (he could only assume that the demon was responsible) had thought about that too.

"Well, lookee here." Caleb raised an eyebrow, impressed. There were two different outfits hung up, just waiting for him to choose from. The first was a simple but nice pair of trousers and a button down shirt, along with some suspenders. It was an identical outfit to the one that he was wearing, but looked brand spankin' new. It was incredibly average. Not too flashy, and not too plain. It was the kind of thing that one could do work in, but still allowed them to look presentable.

The other outfit was what really caught Caleb's eye though. It was a real fancy get-up. Spotless white gloves. Shiny new shoes. A purple tuxedo that would go well with Caleb's natural coloring, and a matching bow tie. Caleb had rarely ever worn something as nice as this, and yet he knew straight away that it would be his preference. Caleb had always wanted to be respected by other people, and a quick way to make that happen was by presenting himself as something who deserved to be respected, whether he was or not.

Besides, as the Devil had pointed out the night before, he had an image to uphold. The casino may not be the most refined place in the world, but it was still a nice establishment, and Caleb wasn't going to be the one responsible for lowering its reputation by dressing like an everyday Joe.

Caleb put on the new outfit and went out to the casino. The place wasn't as lively as it had been the night before, but there were still plenty of people around. Most of the people who were at the bars, roulette tables and the such looked like they had been there all night. The casino was a busy place. It looked like there was just no rest for the Devil.

"Well, well, well," A low voice that seemed to reach all the way to Caleb's soul said from just behind him. The man turned and wasn't surprised to see his new boss there, looking much too pleased with himself. "Ain't you a pip. You clean up nice, Dice."

"You say that as though you weren't the one who laid this outfit out for me in the first place." Caleb said with a knowing smirk. This just made the Devil chuckle. "Do you like having all of your employees togged to the bricks, or am I just lucky?"

"You'll just have to see, won't you?" The Devil straightened Caleb's bow tie. He then put an arm around his shoulder and began to show him around the casino. Out of the corner of his eye Caleb saw Mr. Wheezy, and he looked really smug. He probably thought that he had been right about Caleb being the boss' new favorite. And, based on everybody else's reactions as the Devil led him through the casino, Caleb thought that he probably agreed.

Most people tried to be subtle about it, but they were all gawking at them. Caleb had heard that it was rare that the Devil himself was seen in his own casino, and even more rare to see him accompanying somebody else. Caleb could pick apart the people who worked at the casino, because they all looked less shocked and more relieved. Caleb didn't know what the relief was for, and he didn't think that he wanted to know.

Besides, he couldn't focus his attention on interpreting the employees expressions. Not when the Devil was talking to him.

"So, Dice, let's see if you got what it takes to make it big here." The Devil stopped near a roulette table and gestured to the players. The table was full of a number of different people. "If you were in charge of this table and had to pick just one person to focus on, who would it be?"

No, _that_ was an interesting question. Even from just watching them for a few moments Caleb could get a basic handle on the different players. There was a young couple, probably newly-weds. The used their chips easily, but not carelessly. There was a fairly rich young man, based on how many chips he had and how well he was dressed, who was betting a fair amount of chips, though, when compared to his total, not very much.

There also seemed to be a family of four, a mother, father, son, and daughter, who were likely there on vacation and were just trying their luck for a bit of fun. Then there was a bum who looked like he had walked in from the streets. He didn't have very many chips, and he seemed desperate to win.

Caleb didn't know what the purpose of this little test was, but he immediately knew what his response would be. "Him." Caleb pointed to the street bum. The Devil looked intrigued. "He's got the most to lose." Maybe he didn't have much money, but that was _exactly_ what made him the perfect victim. People who are broke are more desperate to get cash, and they'll be more likely to bet something more personal and valuable.

Caleb had never cared much about the money when it came to gambling. He did it for the thrill, and the power play of having somebody owe you long after a game was over because they bet something that they shouldn't have given up.

The Devil ducked his head slightly and chuckled deeply at his response. "I knew there was something I liked about you." The Devil tightened his grip around Caleb's shoulder. The man could feel the creature's claws dig into his skin, not enough to pierce through his skin, or even his suit, but enough for it to be noticeable and ever so slightly painful. "Something tells me you'll fit right in here, Dice."

Caleb looked around the casino and smirked slightly. It was certainly a place that he wouldn't mind getting used to. "I can't wait to get started, Boss."

* * *

 **A/N: Midway through writing this chapter I realized that every interaction that I had between King Dice and the Devil is in an almost flirtatious way. Apparently that's just the natural way that I write them, so I figured why fight against it? I don't yet know if I'll actually have them be an official thing in the story, but it'll definitely be implied plenty, so be aware of that for future chapters.**


	2. Chapter 2

Working at the Devil's casino was a lot different than Dice had been expecting, and yet it didn't take him all that long to adjust to what was going to be the new 'normal' of his life. The one thing that was easiest for him to adjust to was answering to the name that he was known by in the casino. Everybody, his coworkers, the customers, and especially the Devil himself, just called him Dice. At first he was a little annoyed by this, but then he just waved it off and embraced the name. After all, what did it matter exactly what somebody called him, just so long as they respected and recognized him.

Besides, it had been the Devil who had first started calling him Dice, and he wasn't foolish enough to argue with his boss about the matter. Dice had more sense than to disagree with the master of evil when the matter really wasn't all that important.

Dice didn't struggle with his actual job either. Working at the casino was actually really easy and enjoyable. The hardest part about Dice's job was that at times he wasn't sure exactly what his job _was_. His contract had been spot on when it said that he would do the Devil's bidding. Every day Dice's job seemed to changed based on his boss's needs. Not that Dice was complaining, it actually felt pretty great to be working so close to the boss man himself when most people never even got to be in the same _room_ as the Devil. Still, Dice would feel better about the whole thing if at times he didn't feel like he was just a glorified waiter. That in and of itself wouldn't be so bad if it weren't for the fact that Dice was fairly certain that half of the tasks he was doing for the Devil weren't the boss's idea in the first place, but the casino workers.

Mr. Wheezy had been the one to start the whole thing. Dice didn't know for sure what the cigar's roll at the casino was (he barely even knew what his _own_ roll at the casino was), but he did know that at least part of Mr. Wheezy's job was to supply cigars to their boss. It wasn't a difficult or dangerous task, but on Dice's second day on the job Mr. Wheezy approached him, gave him a quick run through of what the Devil's cigar preference was and which ones he prefered depending on his mood, and then the cigar sent Dice off to give the Devil his cigar that he had been asking for.

Dice hadn't been happy about being dragged into doing Mr. Wheezy's job for him, but he did it anyways. If the Devil wanted something, no matter what it was or who he expected to bring it to him, then it wasn't a good idea to put it off until later. Dice had never seen his boss truly angry before, and he was going to put off the experience for as long as he could. Even if it meant doing somebody else's work.

The Devil had been surprised that first time that Dice had brought him his cigars, but he hadn't said anything about it. If anything, the Devil seemed amused to see him. Dice had found himself surprisingly flustered when the Devil had gestured for him to come closer and join him for a smoke. Dice had never smoked a cigar before. Some of the kids on the street used to do it all the time in an attempt to look cool, and Dice used to laugh at them as they ended up coughing and sputtering because they didn't know how to properly smoke a cigar.

Still, the Devil was the boss, and not the kind of boss that Dice wanted to irritate. So Dice went ahead and joined the Devil's side. Dice didn't know if he was being really obvious about his inexperience with smoking, or if the Devil could read his mind and just be able to tell (he was the Devil. Dice really wouldn't be all that surprised to learn that the king of darkness could see one's sins just by looking at them), but the Devil automatically just showed Dice how to smoke a cigar properly, and how to tell that it was a good one. Neither of them brought up how this was Dice's first cigar. The Devil just acted like he regularly invited new employees in for a smoke and taught them what to do.

It had felt a little awkward for Dice at first, but he soon figured it out. Once he got the hang of it, the cigar wasn't so bad and he could see why other people enjoyed them so much. Dice wasn't so fond of it himself, but it was alright. It wasn't an experience that he would mind having again.

And Dice did, in fact, end up having that exact experience again. Time after time Dice would find himself being strung into doing Mr. Wheezy's job for him. Before long, it wasn't just the cigar that was doing it. The Tipsy Troop had him taking the Devil's drinks to him. Mangosteen, Chips Bettigan, Phear Lap, and Pirouletta all called on Dice to alert the Devil when there was one problem or another with peoples bets, or if they were running low on supplies.

Dice was annoyed with his coworkers, and if they wanted him to do anything else, he wouldn't stand for it. However, all of the tasks involved some sort of interaction with their boss. Dice didn't have a problem with being irritated with the other employees at the casino, but his boss...it just wasn't worth the risk.

Over time Dice came to realize that he spent about half his time working on the actual casino floor, and half his time waiting on the Devil himself. It wasn't all that difficult of work, and there were a couple of advantages to the one on one time with the big boss man himself. For one thing, Dice liked to think that he got to know his boss fairly well. Not on a personal level, neither of them knew all that much about the other, but on a strictly professional working standpoint. After about two weeks of being conned into doing others work for them, Dice came to recognize some of his bosses moods. If his boss was in a good mood, or if he was bored, or if he just wanted a break from his work, then it would be better for Dice to stay and chat for awhile. On the other hand, if the boss was in a _bad_ mood (and it was always easy to tell when he was in a bad mood. The entire atmosphere of the room changed),then Dice needed to drop off either the cigar or drink, and then make tracks right out of there. And if it was somebody else who needed something from the boss, then Dice would take care of the problem himself, because he was pretty sure that _nobody_ wanted to deal with the Devil if they annoyed him and he blew his top.

Dice knew how to take charge of a situation if he needed to. As far as he was concerned, if there's a job that needs to be done then somebody had better make sure that it gets done right, or else what was the point of doing it at all? And if nobody else wanted to step up and make sure that everything was going on the way that it was supposed to, then Dice would. It didn't matter if he was the newest employee at the casino, he still knew what a sloppy job looked like.

Even so, Dice wasn't the boss at the casino, the Devil was. And even though Dice was willing to take up other responsibilities if he had to, there were just some things that needed the boss's attention. Dice did his best to put off approaching the Devil about such matters when it was clear that his boss wasn't in a good mood. However, sometimes things happened that the Devil needed to take care of, and they just couldn't be put off anymore.

So on one particular day after about three weeks of working at the Casino, despite the numerous warnings that his coworkers gave him about disturbing the boss, Dice made his way to do just that. If Dice had been working at the casino for a longer time, he might have been able to figure out the problem himself. As it was though, the problem was something that the boss needed to take care of, whether he was in the mood for it or not.

Dice knew that it was never fun to do this kind of work, but if the Devil wanted to keep his casino running properly, and Dice was fairly sure that he did, then he needed to make sure that things like this were taken care of. If the Devil didn't want to do it, then he at least needed to find somebody else who could because it _needed to get done._

Dice didn't consider himself the kind of man who was easily intimidated, but when he first entered the Devil's office he immediately felt the intense need to turn around and make tracks right on out of there. It was not a pleasant feeling. Dice wasn't used to feeling frightened, but he wasn't going to let it stop him.

"Boss?" Dice closed the door behind him in an attempt to get rid of the temptation to just run away.

"Go away, Dice." It was astounding just how threatening the Devil could be when he was slouching at his desk, with his head buried in his arms. The Devil's fur was uneven and had an almost mangy look to it. If Dice hadn't previously been told that it wasn't possible for the Devil to get drunk, he would think that his boss just had a really bad hangover. And yet he was probably still the only being who could strike fear into Dice's heart. At the Devil's words Dice's instinct to leave the room intensified so much that he felt like his very survival depended on him getting as far away from his boss as possible.

Still, Dice stood his ground.

"I'm afraid I can't do that, boss." Dice forced himself to step further into the room as he adjusted his grip on the folder in his hands. "I've got work here that needs your attention." Dice didn't know what was in the folder, he had barely glimpsed at the contents, but that glimpse was enough to tell him that this was important stuff, and anybody who wasn't dealing with it didn't have a right to look at it at all.

"Do it yourself." The Devil muttered into his arms.

Dice frowned. "I can't. I'm not the boss."

The Devil groaned. "I've already got so much work I gotta do. I can't do _everything."_ The Devil sounded more like a petulant brat than the prince of darkness. Still, Dice couldn't help but feel slightly sorry for his boss. The Devil was obviously feeling overworked, and that just wasn't right. Dice knew that bosses typically had more work to do than their employees, but the reason that they had people working for them was to lighten their workload. If the Devil felt like he had too much work to do, then his employees weren't holding their weight.

"Maybe there's something I can do to help." Dice approached the Devil's desk and put the folders he had brought on top of it. "What else are you working on?"

The Devil lifted his head off the desk and looked at him uneasily. Dice was shocked to see that his boss's eyes looked even more red than they usually did, and they also seemed slightly wet. Before Dice could ask about it, or really think about the sight The Devil had already wiped at his eyes with the back of his furry hands. It was a motion that could be seen as simply wiping the sleep from his eyes, but Dice could see in the way that the boss's eyes were now dry that it had probably been more than that.

"Why would you offer to help?" The Devil asked cautiously. He was probably worried that Dice wanted something from him in return.

"You're the one who put on my contract that I was supposed to do your bidding." Dice reminded The Devil. "So, is it your bidding for me to assist you?"

The Devil stared at him for a moment before chuckling under his breath. "You got a point there." The Devil sat up and stretched. He then handed Dice a long list of names. Some of them he recognized, others he didn't. "That's a list of all the people on this island whose souls belong to me."

Dice looked down on the list. It was impressively long. Dice knew for a fact that not this many people worked at the casino. "What do you do with them once you have their souls?"

The Devil shrugged. "Whatever I want." He said. "As long as I have their contracts, if I want something from them, they have to do it."

"So, what's the problem?" Dice asked as he glanced down the list and noticed that one of the names was circled. "And what's so special about 'Cagney Carnation'?

The Devil growled and Dice could literally feel the heat from his anger and frustration coming off of him. "I can't find his contract. I have looked _everywhere_. My little demons have been searching for it beyond the casino for days, and there's no sign of it."

"What do you want me to do about it?" Dice asked, because he really didn't know what he could possibly do about a situation that the Devil himself was struggling with.

"I've never misplaced a contract before." The Devil said darkly. "Something happened to it, and I doubt it's the only one that's missing." The Devil held out his hand and summoned a large stack of rolled up scrolls. "These are all my soul contracts. I want to know if there are more contracts missing than just the weed's."

There were so many names on the list, and so many contracts in the stack, it was no wonder that the Devil had been feeling overwhelmed. "I'll deal with it, sir." Dice said easily. It would take some time, but he would get the task done, no problem.

For the next two hours or so Dice and The Devil both focused on their individual work. Dice looked through all of the contracts, checking, double checking, and even triple checking which ones were there. The Devil in the meantime worked on whatever other issues he had to deal with, whether they were related to being the actual devil, or just because he ran a casino. The two worked in silence, neither of them saying a word to each other. They both got a lot of work done, but they still had even more work to go.

After a few hours the Devil stopped what he was doing and stretched. "That's it, I need a break." The Devil then snagged the list from Dice's hands and threw it onto the stack of collected debtor's contracts. "Come on, let's see if the casino is still standing without either of us out there to babysit it."

Dice smirked and gladly took the Devil up on his offer. It would feel good to stretch his legs and get his mind off of whether or not they had Beppi the Clown's soul contract (he hadn't seen it his first time looking through the stack, but he could have sworn that he had seen it in his second look through. This was why Dice was checking each contract five times over. Better safe than sorry).

Dice and Devil left the office that had started to feel like it was much smaller than it usually was and walked out onto the casino floor. Without saying a word to each other about it, Dice and the Devil made their way for the bar on the other side of the casino. The bar area was packed, it usually was, but when the customers took one look at the Devil they all scattered back to the betting tables. No matter how drunk or desperate for a drink they were, everybody knew better than to get in the way of the Devil and his whiskey.

"That's the stuff." The Devil sighed contently after he swallowed down a full glass of whiskey like it was a shot. "Dice, remind me to not try to work without a drink again."

"Will do, boss." Dice said. He usually wasn't one who drank on the job, but after these past few hours he was starting to think that nobody should be forced to do any work without having at least a couple of shots handy. A full bottle of liquor, if the work was difficult. "If ya don't mind me asking, sir, what was in the folder I brought you?" DIce may have kept himself from reading the files inside himself, but he didn't see a problem with asking his boss about it just to satisfy his curiosity.

The Devil rolled his eyes and groaned. "More complaints from the local church."

"Ah," Dice nodded. Even after just three weeks of working at the casino Dice had quickly learned that most of the people who had a major problem with the casino were the religious fanatics. They never did anything, but they sure knew how to complain and blame everything that went wrong in their sorry lives on the casino's existence. "What's bothering those dingy twits now?"

"They think that I possessed the pastor's daughter because they figured out she's been hanging around the sporting district." The Devil scowled.

"About time they figured it out." Dice chuckled. "Everyone on Inkwell Isle knows what she's been up to."

"Tell me about it." The Devil said. "I'm all for religious kids having a rebellious streak, but I'm sick of their parents blaming _me_ for it. I'm not the creator of sin."

"Just the master of it." Dice picked up his glass and raised it slightly in respect towards the Devil before taking a drink.

"What about you?" The Devil asked as he gestured for the tipsy troop to refill his glass. "You make any progress on those contracts?"

"If by progress you mean that I know for a fact that I now know that there are at least ten contracts missing." Dice said tiredly.

"What!?" The Devil growled and his fur stood on end. "What happened to them!?" The walls themselves seemed to shake because of the Devil's fury. There were cries of alarm and distress from many of the casino goers

"I don't know, boss." Dice said, completely unfazed. He had long since stopped being startled by the Devil's angry outbursts. Dice knew that somebody had to have done something to the contracts, because the Devil wouldn't have just accidentally misplaced the very things that he had devoted his immortal life to collecting. The soul contracts were the Devil's true work. The casino was just a means to an end for him. "Is there anybody else that could have taken them?"

The Devil was quiet for a moment before his expression darkened so intensively that for the first time Dice truly felt as though he was looking into the face of evil itself. "That greaseball. When I get my claws on him…"

"On who?" Dice asked cautiously.

"My damned manager." The Devil growled, and Dice got the feeling that his boss wasn't just swearing for the sake of emphasis, he really meant that his old manager was damned. "He's the only person who has had access to my contracts."

"Do you think he stole them?" Dice asked, though he didn't exactly doubt it.

"I _know_ he did." The Devil smashed his glass against the counter, shattering it. "I had him drop _one_ contract with the others, and he makes off with a bunch of them."

"What would he want with the soul contracts?" Dice asked, because as far as he knew an individual soul contract was of value to only two people, the Devil, and the person who had signed away their soul.

"Power." The Devil said as though it should have been obvious, and he was probably right. "That good-for-nothing grifter was always trying to get his grubby paws on my power. I let him have his fun, he'd get what he had coming to him eventually, sinners always do, but…"

"But you hadn't expected just how greedy and foolish he would be." Dice guessed.

Devil scowled and shook his head. "I can't even tell you how long I've been at this, and I'm _still_ surprised by the idiocy and darkness of mortals."

"So, what are we going to do about it?" Dice asked.

"Wait." The Devil glanced behind them and seemed to summon Mr. Wheezy with just a glance. The casino worker wordlessly handed the Devil a cigar and then retreated. Coward. The Devil lit his cigar with a simple movement of his claw. The Devil took a long, slow puff, which he then huffed out through gritted teeth. "He can't do anything with the contracts. He'll probably just return them to debtors to make them indebted to _him_ instead."

"You're strangely calm for someone who has lost ten or more souls." Dice raised an eyebrow.

"I'll get my hands on my manager eventually." The Devil said. "And as for the contracts, the souls still belong to me. The only way to break the contracts is by burning them, and nobody can burn their own soul contracts."

"And after having just got their contracts back, none of the debtors will be willing to let them out of their hands any time soon." Dice realized. "So...no real harm was done."

"Not yet." The dark look returned to the Devil's eyes. "But when he dies and I get my hands on that damn soul again…"

"Then you'll drag him down to hell and give him the punishment that he deserves." Dice finished off his drink and straightened his jacket. "In the meantime though, maybe we should get started on replacing the soul contracts that we lost. I'm sure there are _some_ people at the tables who are desperate enough to make a deal with you."

"There always are." The Devil smirked. "I like the way you think, Dice. I knew you would have a knack for this business." Dice smirked proudly. He may not know what he was doing with this job sometimes, but if the Devil himself thought that he was a natural at this sinner's business, then he must be doing something right.


	3. Chapter 3

Dice had been working at the Devil's casino for a few months, and he was starting to feel pretty good about it. He had found the middle ground between being a dealer on the casino floor, and managing the Devil himself. The Devil always seemed to have one thing or another that he wanted, but Dice had arranged things with him so that he could get the rest of his job done as well.

The plan that Dice had come up with was that during the morning and afternoon, he was available for whatever the Devil wanted. He was at the Devil's beck and call. If the Devil wanted to teach him a new dealing technique, or if he wanted to have a drinking companion, or just somebody around to play the part of his secretary if it was necessary, then Dice would be available to him. Once the evening arrived, Dice would fill the Devil's cigar box, make sure his private liquor stock was filled, and then he would make his way to the casino floor before the crowd arrived in the night. If the Devil needed anything at night, he would either have to get it from somebody else, or make do. Unless, of course, if it was absolutely necessary.

Dice had been a little hesitant about working for the Devil, so he was very surprised at how pleased he was with his job. He had always known that he enjoyed to play cards. He found it even more enjoyable to deal cards, to be in control of everything at the table. He had found his calling as a dealer at the casino, especially since this was the _Devil's_ casino. They didn't just try to win money, but also favors and souls, which were actually much more valuable.

Dice couldn't care less about money, but anything that could give him power over others was priceless to him.

All in all, things were going extremely well. Dice was starting to get the hang of recognizing when somebody was desperate or greedy enough to put their soul on the line. He was respected by the visitors to the casino, his coworkers, and even his boss. Dice felt pretty good about where he stood at the casino.

He should have known that working in any establishment that was owned by the Devil himself was eventually going to turn to absolute _hell._

The day that Dice learned that he should have watched his step more carefully was a day that started out like any other. The only unusual thing about it was that the Devil hadn't asked for Dice at any time during the day. This was unusual, but not the first time that it had happened, so Dice hadn't thought anything of it. He had just shrugged it off and focused on his work, all the while ignoring the curious glances he was getting from his co-workers. They were just as used to his service to the Devil as he was.

All day long the air on the casino floor felt stuffy and unnatural, and it made Dice feel like shivering and sweating at once. This wasn't an unusual feeling at the Casino, as this was normally what the atmosphere of a room felt like when the Devil entered, though the feeling wasn't usually so stifling.

Dice wasn't a fool. He knew that even if the Devil had been cooped up in his office all day, the suffocating air in the casino _had_ to be coming from him. Dice figured that the Devil was just in a particularly bad mood, and the best thing to do was to wait for it to pass. The Devil had his little mood swings every once and awhile, but his temper tantrums rarely lasted for longer than a few hours. So Dice did his job, and he waited for the inevitable moment when the Devil's anger and frustration turned into despair, because he knew that it would be up to him to cheer up, or at least distract, his boss. All of Dice's coworkers were too much of cowards to go anywhere near the Devil when he was in one of his moods, no matter which stages of his moods his emotions were sitting at. It made Dice wonder just who had dealt with this task before he had come along.

It was most likely that nobody else had ever even bothered to try before, and Dice felt thrilled at the thought that he was the first.

It was only when night fell and the casino got truly busy did Dice begin to think that maybe he should be concerned. The horrible feeling in the casino hadn't gone away. If anything, it had gotten even stronger. What really surprised Dice was that the gamblers seemed undisturbed by the uncomfortable thick feeling in the air. And these were folks that were prone to complaining about anything that crossed their little minds. It was almost as though they didn't notice the heat and chill at all. For a few wild moments Dice wondered if he had just taken ill, but that thought quickly scampered on its way when he noticed just how stiff and on edge the rest of the casino workers were. It was as though they were expecting a disaster. They didn't know when it would happen, or how bad it would be, but they knew that it was coming.

Dice didn't normally let his coworkers moods affect his own, but this wasn't exactly a normal occasion. The others were acting even stranger than they usually did, and Dice knew that there had to be a reason for it. Dice wasn't an easily scared man, but as the hours passed he found himself growing slightly nervous as he saw his coworkers get more and more on edge. They may all be spineless cowards, but they had also been at the casino for longer than Dice had. If there really was a cause for concern, they would likely recognize it earlier than he did.

Dice didn't completely understand what was going on, but he continued doing his work regardless. It served as a good distraction. Dice didn't deal with feelings of uncertainty very well, so he was grateful that he had his work to focus on. And if he could keep things running smoothly at the casino, then maybe he could keep his boss from getting in an even worse mood.

Dice had just gotten himself used to working despite the underlying anxiety caused by the suffocating feeling in the air when it suddenly got ten times worse. Without warning, the feeling got so bad that Dice physically felt as though he couldn't breath. He could only think of one reason why this would happen, and for the first time since he started working at the casino Dice truly dreaded seeing his boss.

"Fancy seeing you out tonight, Boss." Dice turned to greet the Devil. He knew his tone was cheekier than was probably necessary, but Dice was on edge, and he had the unfortunate habit of getting more sarcastic when he was in a bad mood. It normally wasn't so bad, which was why DIce had never bothered to find a different coping method. But he didn't think it would be very good for him to speak in such a way to his boss, who was already in a bad mood.

The Devil clenched his teeth and let out a low growl that seemed to shake the very walls of the casino. "Shut up, Dice." A chill washed over Dice that was so cold that it almost seemed to burn. Dice stiffened and instinctively curled in on himself slightly. Fortunately, nobody even noticed, as all eyes were on the Devil.

The Devil snarled at all of the betters. "Everybody _out_." The Devil's tone was quiet and low, but all of the gamblers got the message. The gamblers made tracks right out of the casino so quickly that within just a matter of moments they had all cleared out. The only people remaining at the casino were the ones who were employed there, and every single one of them looked as though they would rather be anywhere else.

Dice wanted to protest. They had been making good money that night, and kicking everybody out prematurely had the potential to cause more problems because of complaints from unhappy gamblers. Dice wanted to suggest that they keep the casino open, despite any of their personal feelings on the matter, but he couldn't. He _literally_ couldn't.

Any attempt that Dice made to open his mouth to offer an alternative, the words seemed to get caught in his throat and he couldn't force a single sound out of his mouth. It was as though he was physically unable to say a word. It was strange, and absolutely terrifying. Dice was a talkative guy. If he got himself into a pickle, it wasn't unusual for him to be able to find a way to sweet talk himself right out of it again. Dice relied on his words, and without them he felt completely helpless and pathetic.

What was wrong with him?

With all the gamblers gone, the Devil seemed to have finished what he had come out of his office to do. He glared harshly at all of his workers, though Dice was fairly certain that his gaze was more focused on _him_ than any of the others, before he turned right back around and returned to his office, slamming the door behind him.

Almost as though magic was involved, and later, when Dice was thinking clearly, he figured that it likely _was_ , the air seemed to become breathable again. Dice's words still felt all caught up in his throat, but with a _lot_ of effort he was somehow able to force out five short words.

"W-what the _h-hell_ w-was _t-that?"_ Dice hated how weak his words came out. Why was this so hard all of a sudden? The rest of the casino workers had been looking cautiously towards where the Devil had walked off, but at Dice's words the attention turned to to him. The workers all looked at Dice as though he had grown a second head, and he didn't know why.

Mr. Wheezy was the first to recover from his shock. "Dice, how did you _do_ that?"

"D-do w-wh-." Dice stammered and choked on his words so badly that it felt like his breath was caught up in his throat. The air had just become breathable again, and he couldn't breath.

"Whoa, Dice, take it easy." Mr. Wheezy laid a hand on his arm, his voice filled with an unexpected concern. "Look, we're all impressed with your determination, but you're going to end up hurting yourself if you keep trying to talk like this."

"W-w-why?" Dice grimaced. His throat was starting to _burn._ What was wrong with him?

"Well, damn, Dice, because the Devil ordered you to stop talking." Mr. Wheezy said as though it should have been obvious.

Dice gave him an annoyed look. "S-so w-w-what." Talking definitely hurt like hell, and Dice knew that he was just being stubborn at this point but if others believed he should be silent, he was determined to do anything but. He knew it was probably a mistake, but he wasn't going to let himself be beat by it. Especially since the expressions on his coworkers faces were absolutely priceless to see. It was almost as though they had seen a dead man miraculously come back to life, only to slowly start dying again. Dice didn't like to think about what the expressions meant.

"S-so what?" Mr. Wheezy repeated in a weak voice. He looked at Dice as though he was crazy. "The Devil owns our _souls_ Dice. If he wants us to do something, we have to do it." Dice felt his chest tighten up tightly. This was happening because of the Devil's magic? It certainly explained some things. At the same time though, Mr. Wheezy's theory had one _major_ problem with it.

Dice opened his mouth to respond, but he ultimately thought better of it. He wanted to have answers, but he didn't want to torture himself any further just because of his pride. Dice reached into his suit pocket and took out a notepad and pen that he carried around just in case he needed them. Dice wrote his message out on the pad, and then underlined it a few times for emphasis, because the point that he had to make was _very_ important.

' _The Devil doesn't have my soul.'_

Dice shoved the notepad towards Mr. Wheezy. The cigar's eyes widened when he read the message. Mr. Wheezy lifted his gaze to look at DIce, who glared at him coldly, and then looked back at the message. "You're serious?"

Dice scowled and nodded sharply.

"But you said you signed a contract?" Mr. Wheezy clarified.

Dice turned the notepad back towards him and wrote another message.

' _To temporarily work at the casino. There was no soul involved.'_

Mr. Wheezy sighed. "Here's the thing, Dice, the boss owns the souls of _everybody_ who works at the casino. That's how he keeps control."

It made sense. _Too much_ sense. Dice began to feel like a fool. When he had first signed the contract, it had only been because the Devil had assured him that he wasn't signing away his soul. He should have known better than to believe a single _word_ that came out of that demon's mouth. He should have been smart enough to not trust the Devil.

Dice could feel his hands beginning to shake badly, though he didn't know if it was because of fear, anger, or a side effect of being under the Devil's control. Mr. Wheezy also took notice of how he was trembling, and his expression fell to one of blatant concern and pity. Dice _loathed_ that look.

"Why don't you go take the rest of the night off?" Mr. Wheezy suggested even as he took Dice's arm and began to lead him back to his room. "Trust me, we've all been there. You just need to get your mind off of it all. Relax, get some sleep, practice your little card tricks. Just do something to stop thinking about eternal damnation." Blunt and to the point as ever. Dice himself wasn't actually experiencing fear for his eternal soul, it hadn't even crossed his mind. But he supposed he could understand how those that _were_ thinking about such a thing would have a similar reaction. And if it gave him an excuse to have some time to himself, then he certainly wasn't going to complain.

Dice numbly let Mr. Wheezy lead him back to his room. His emotions were building up so much that he could barely contain them, but he managed it somehow. He already felt like enough of a fool, he wasn't about to make things even worse by losing control of his emotions when somebody was around to witness it. He wanted to keep at least a shred of his dignity.

After he was back in the safety of his own room though, when Mr. Wheezy had hesitantly made his way back to the casino floor, Dice had no reason to hold back anymore. Dice collapsed onto his bed. If it wasn't for the Devil's order to him, he likely would have made an embarrassing sound that was a mix between a growl and a whimper. As it was though, he remained completely silent.

Suddenly feeling absolutely exhausted, Dice kicked his shoes off and loosened his tie. If he was in any decent state of mind he would have been ashamed and disgusted at the very thought of falling asleep in his nice suit. At that moment though, he just couldn't bring himself to care. Especially when he remembered that the suit had been a gift from the Devil. With just that thought, Dice was more than alright with letting the suit get a bit wrinkled. He didn't care if he didn't look like the image of professionalism for the gamblers. He didn't care if his slightly haggard appearance gave the bosses casino a bad name. In fact, that was exactly what Dice wanted to happen. The Devil could be damned and rot in hell for all Dice cared.

In the morning Dice would likely realize how foolish he was being. He would remember that he cared much more about appearances and professionalism than the Devil did. He would remember that it was beyond useless to wish his boss, who was the _Devil himself,_ would rot in hell when it was likely his literal home. Dice would realize all of this when he had his head on straight again.

As it was, he just wanted to curse his boss' existence, and his own damn gullibility.


	4. Chapter 4

There were perks to being immortal, the most obvious one being that one could live forever. There were other ways that immortals differed from ordinary men, though it varied from creature to creature.

The Devil, for example, couldn't get drunk. That may sound like a meaningless difference, but it made things rather dull sometimes. He also didn't need to sleep or eat, though he could do both if he wanted. The Devil also had extraordinary powers that most creatures couldn't even dream of. He was a powerful being, that much was for sure, but he wasn't _all_ powerful.

The Devil actually had a _very human flaw._ He didn't know if it was the same for all immortals, but he personally had to experience emotions, and he had to experience them in a very human way. The Devil couldn't control the way he was feeling. Some days he was proud and eager. Other days he was downtrodden and felt like the smallest creature in existence. He couldn't predict his own emotions. One simple action, like somebody daring to stand up to him, could amuse him, infuriate him, or make him start bawling like a baby.

The Devil couldn't control the way that he felt, just like he believed most mortals couldn't. If it turned out that mortals _could_ control their emotions, The Devil would be feeling _very_ pissed off, though he wouldn't be all that surprised. The Devil had been around since the beginning, and in that time he had noticed that not only did he experience human emotions, but he also felt them more intensely than most mortals did.

The Devil didn't know whether this was because of some divine punishment, or if it was just cruel irony, but that was the way that things were.

The Devil found his emotions and mood swings completely inconvenient. Some days he would wake up without even having noticed that he was asleep in the first place, and he could just tell that he was going to have a bad time. Everything would seem too bright, and loud. If he saw anybody who had a decent/holy aura about them, he would feel sick to his stomach. If he saw a sinner, he would get annoyed. He just couldn't be satisfied during these days.

The Devil would just try to avoid everybody, but it was no good. He was sensitive to the auras of people around him. He could always tell exactly how many people were in the casino. The Devil could even sense when there was somebody in his casino ready to make a deal, even if he was all the way in his office. And for some odd reason that The Devil didn't understand, these sensing abilities got even more powerful when he was having an off day.

The Devil despised his off days, but he hated the days that followed nearly as much. Even when he was feeling back to his normal self, the casino workers all got anxious around him...well, even more so than they normally did. The Devil could normally appreciate being feared, but not like this. He wanted to be feared because of who he was, not because of what he had previously done.

The fastest way for things to get back to normal was if his employees saw for themselves that he wasn't in one of his moods anymore. Once they saw that things were back to business as usual, they would loosen up and everything would be back to normal in just a few hours.

Occasionally, if he was in the right kind of mood, the Devil would just go out onto the casino floor itself. More often than not though the Devil _wasn't_ in that kind of mood, and he would much rather just have a normal interaction with one of his workers and let them spread the word.

The Devil would have normally chosen the worker based on what he was in the mood for. If he wanted a drink, he called in someone from the Tipsy Troop. If he wanted a cigarette, he brought in Mr. Wheezy. If he just wanted to know how things were going in the casino itself, that was what the rest of his employees were for. At that moment though, The Devil didn't know what he wanted, but he knew _who_ he wanted.

Dice had been working at the casino for a few months, but this was the first time since he had come that the Devil had gone through one of his moods. Dice had seen him in some pretty bad states, but he hadn't seen him in this kind of mood before. The Devil knew that Dice was tougher than he looked. Dice had been able to handle him in some pretty bad moods. The Devil was sure that this situation wouldn't be much different.

And maybe it _wasn't_ different, but maybe it _was._ The Devil really had no way of knowing what Dice could or couldn't handle, because Dice wouldn't let him. The Devil's newest employee was avoiding him, and it was really irritating him. The Devil normally wouldn't hesitate to storm up to Dice and demand his attention, but Mr. Wheezy suggested that he give him some time.

"He's still new to this, Boss." Mr. Wheezy said in a tone that made it clear that he was feeling cautious, but not enough so to make him back off. "You scared him quite a bit yesterday."

The Devil growled and clenched his teeth around his cigar. "Even if he _was_ scared, Dice isn't stupid." The Devil knew that only fools tried to run from him. Anybody with half a brain would recognize that they couldn't run from him, and if they tried it would just anger him further. And Dice had more than half a brain. If he _was_ afraid, which the Devil had a hard time imagining, then why wasn't he hurrying to do what was asked of him? That was the smartest thing to do, which meant that it was what Dice would have done.

No, Dice wasn't afraid of him. This was because of something else, and the Devil intended on figuring out what it was. He couldn't just confront Dice about this. The Devil didn't know if it was just some lingering sentiment from the mood he has been in lately, or if it had to do with his ever growing fondness of his new favorite employee, but he didn't want to scare him off. The Devil was used to people being afraid of him, and in same ways he did enjoy the power, but he also enjoyed having somebody around who saw him as the Prince of Darkness, not as the Beast. As far as he knew, Dice wasn't afraid of him, and the Devil didn't want to do something that could change that.

The Devil didn't know how mortals did it. They formed complicated relationships all the time, and here he was struggling with just a single one. He wanted Dice to respect him, but he didn't want him to fear him. The Devil didn't know how to refrain from shaking somebody right down to their soul, let alone how to do it while still making it clear that he did have the power to do just that.

The Devil didn't know what to do, so he did what Mr. Wheezy advised, even if he didn't want to. Because while he may be the Devil, Mr. Wheezy was a mortal, and so was Dice. The Devil understood some things about mortals, he understood their greed, their fear, their desperation. But he didn't know everything. As a fellow mortal the Devil hoped that Mr. Wheezy had a better idea of what was going on then he did.

Though considering Mr. Wheezy was under the impression that Dice was _afraid_ , maybe the Devil would be better off not listening to his mortal insight.

The Devil was beginning to think that he should just stick to what he knew, take a gamble, and talk to Dice himself when he felt a strong pull on his powers. The Devil liked to keep track of what went on in his casino. The Devil formed many binding connections in his line of work, with his employees, his soul contracts, everything. He used magic to make sure that things were going the way that he should. He couldn't feel _everything_ , for example, he hadn't felt a thing when his old manager had stolen his contracts, but he _would_ feel it if anybody tried to destroy those contracts.

This pull meant that somebody was trying to break off a bond.

The Devil snarled and opened up a portal. He normally only did this to travel to and from his home in Hell. The Devil knew that he could intimidate people by magicing himself into a room, but he had found that the sudden fearful response when he did so wasn't nearly as satisfying as seeing everybody get more and more anxious as he drew closer. At that moment though, his goal wasn't to mess around with mortal's emotions and fear, it was to figure out who was messing around with _him._ And the fastest way to do that was by letting the magical pull bring him to where the problem was.

The Devil's magic led him straight to the main floor of his casino, which didn't surprise him at all. Not all of the Devil's binding contracts were connected to the casino, but most of them were. It was early in the morning, the slowest time of the day, so the Devil wasn't surprised how empty the casino was. The only people he saw were his employees. Every single one of them was tense and nervous, and the Devil had the crazy feeling that, for once, it had nothing to do with him.

The source of his employees' anxiety and his magical pull was the same thing, and the Devil saw what it was within just a matter of moments. Dice was kneeling on the casino floor just inches away from the front door of the casino. The Devil may have a difficult time understanding mortals, but he knew how to put two and two together. Dice was upset with him. Somebody had tried to push at one of the magical bonds, and it just so happened that one of those bonds was that the casino workers were tied to the casino.

"Is there a reason you were trying to run away from my casino?" The Devil's tone was cold and even. He didn't appreciate that his new favorite had tried to leave, and he wanted to know why.

Dice didn't say a word, which made the Devil feel uneasy. Dice had never failed to answer his questions before. What had changed to make him feel the need to keep quiet? "Answer me." The Devil put power into this command. Anybody that he had a bond with, an employee, somebody from a soul contract, would have little choice but to obey him.

Dice made a strange, choked sound that sounded like he was either tempted to say something when he knew he should be silent, or he was doing his best to keep silent when he had no choice but to speak. The Devil raised an eyebrow. He felt a slight tug at his powers, similar to the pull he had felt, but not nearly as strong. The Devil vaguely remembered feeling a very similar tug the day before, shortly after he had shut down the museum for the night. Dice was trying to resist him. The Devil didn't know whether he should be infuriated, or intrigued.

"Now, Dice." The Devil growled, because no matter how he felt about Dice's defiance, he needed answers.

"...Wanted to take a walk." Dice said in a voice that was nearly inaudible. The Devil only heard him because he had attuned hearing. Dice had answered his question, but he hadn't told him what exactly he had wanted to know in the first place. The Devil should have known he would do this. Dice was a slippery fellow. If there was the smallest loophole, he would find it and squirm his way through it.

"You never struck me as the walking type." The Devil crossed his arms. He knew that there were at least two things that Dice could mean by 'taking a walk'. It could be literal, or he could mean that he wanted to walk out of there and never return, and neither seemed to be Dice's style. "Why the sudden interest?"

"I wanted to see if I could." Dice's tone was stiff, almost accusatory, and the Devil figured out why Dice had been avoiding him. It wasn't because he was _afraid,_ it was because he was _mad._

The Devil didn't know what Dice was so mad at him for, but at least he had an idea of why he had tried to leave the casino. Dice hadn't been trying to quit, he had just been testing the boundaries. He wanted to know just how things went at the casino.

"Ya know, you could have just asked." The Devil commented with a bit of a chuckle. "I could have told you that you wouldn't be able to leave." All of his employees were bound to him, and to the casino.

Dice grew tense and very still for a few moments before he slowly stood up, though he still didn't turn around. "Why not?" Dice's tone suggested that he already knew the answer, but he wanted to hear it anyways. "What's keeping me here?"

"You signed a contract to work here at my casino, and nobody that works here is allowed to leave." The Devil knew that Dice had been aware of this the whole time, so why was it only now becoming an issue?

"But _what_ makes me stay?" Dice snapped around and glared at the Devil. "How, exactly, are you making me stay?"

The Devil didn't understand why Dice insisted on asking questions that he already knew the answer to. "With your soul." Dice's soul was bound to the casino. He couldn't leave it.

Dice was apparently not happy with his answer. "I didn't sign my soul away to you. That was part of our deal." It had been awhile since the Devil had had somebody be so blatantly furious with him. People were terrified of him, as well they should be. It was an interesting development, and the Devil was most definitely more intrigued than infuriated at this point.

"No, you didn't. But you _did_ agree to work for me, and this is part of the deal." The Devil raised an eyebrow at Dice, whose glare just intensified.

"So you've always had control over my soul anyways." Dice finally didn't phrase what he already knew as a question. It was about time. "What was the point?" And they were back to the pointless questions.

"That's the way that things are." The Devil said. "I'm not going to make any exceptions for you."

"I'm not asking you to." Dice looked insulted at the very suggestion, which the Devil didn't entirely understand.

"Then what is it that you want?" The Devil normally couldn't care less about what mortals wanted, but Dice...well, he was Dice. If the Devil could get Dice to stop ignoring him, then he would try it out.

"I don't want you to control what I do and say anymore." Dice said, and the Devil scoffed at his request. Who did Dice think that he was, to make demands of him like this?

"You have to do what I say," The Devil reminded him. "You work for me."

"I do," Dice agreed. "But while you may be my _boss,_ you are _not_ my _master."_

The Devil was seriously confused at this point. "What's the difference?" As far as he was concerned, they were one in the same.

Dice's expression darkened in a dangerous way. He stepped forward and got into the Devil's space. The Devil didn't appreciate this, but he didn't back down. He wasn't afraid of Dice, and he wasn't going to let any of his workers think that he could be so easily intimidated.

"I may work for you," Dice's tone was low and dangerous. "But I am _not_ just some puppet that you can control." Once Dice had gotten these things off his chest, he stormed his way past the Devil and headed to the back, probably towards his room. The Devil normally wouldn't let somebody else have the final word, but he made an exception this time.

Dice was angry with him, but he would calm down. Dice didn't get angry often, but when he did he was fierce. When Dice calmed down though, he was just as dignified and smooth as he usually was. He just needed time, and that was something that the Devil had plenty of. He didn't seem like it, but the Devil was patient when he needed to be. He was an immortal being. He had all the time in the world.

The Devil was impressed by Dice's willpower, but it couldn't hold a feather to the Devil's power. Dice may be stubborn and prideful, but he was also smart. He would calm down and realize that he was getting upset over nothing, it was just a matter of time.


	5. Chapter 5

To say that Dice was frustrated with his boss would be an understatement. He held such harsh, intense feelings for his boss that he was tempted to stop working. He knew that he couldn't leave, but he didn't want to be anywhere with the smallest possibility of having a run in with the Devil. He would rather stay in his room all day.

But he didn't.

Dice may be furious with the Devil, but he still enjoyed working at the casino. Dice loved working with the gamblers, and they loved it when he dealt for them. Dice was a charming guy, and he knew how to draw gamblers in. Dice liked his job, and he wasn't going to let his lying, scheming boss take that away from him.

So Dice continued to do his work on the casino floor, though he refused to do anything for the Devil himself. If the boss wanted something, he could get it from one of the other employees. Dice was trying to avoid the Devil, and that wouldn't work out so well if he actually went to see him.

Dice had been expecting at least some kind of fighting from the Devil. If there was one thing that Dice had learned during his time at the casino, it was that the Devil, as awe-inspiring and powerful as he was, behaved like a spoiled child. He always expected his workers to do things just the way he wanted them to, even though he never actually said what those expectations were. He threw a temper tantrum when things didn't go his way. Either that or he would bawl like a baby, depending on his mood.

So Dice was surprised and slightly unnerved when, three days later, he hadn't heard a word from the Devil. The boss hadn't come out to find him. None of the other casino workers had told him that the boss was looking for him. In fact, Dice hadn't seen hide nor hair of his boss on the casino floor at all during that time.

If it was just that the Devil hadn't made an appearance for a few days, Dice wouldn't have thought twice about it. After all, he wasn't just a casino owner, he was the _Devil himself._ He had more important things to do than babysit his side project. It wasn't uncommon for the Devil to not be seen on the floor for a few days at a time. However, the Devil's presence could still be felt in the casino, despite his absence. Dice had grown so accustomed to the feeling and knowledge that his boss was watching them at all times, it felt extremely odd to have that feeling suddenly be gone.

This was exactly what Dice had been hoping for, some distance from the Devil. Once he had that distance though, a small part of him didn't feel comfortable with it. He hadn't realized just how comfortable he had become with the Devil's presence.

It was infuriating, to say the very least. Dice wanted nothing to do with his boss, but he still couldn't help but feel like his every thought and emotion was influenced by the Devil. It wasn't fair, and Dice refused to just sit around and let it happen.

So Dice thought carefully. Why was the absence of the Devil's influence so obvious? It didn't take very long for Dice to figure it out. It was the other casino workers. They had all been working at the casino for longer than Dice had, and they were more of 'followers' than he ever would be. They were used to being told what to do, and being corrected if they made a mistake. They were all professionals at what they did, but suddenly when they realized that the Devil wasn't watching them, they seemed to fall to pieces.

Dice figured that if his coworkers couldn't do their jobs unless they had somebody looking over their shoulder to make sure that they were doing it right, then he would give them what they wanted.

"I don't care how drunk you are, or if you've signed your soul away to the Devil, if you can't get a simple martini order right, then you can find yourselves another job." Dice growled at the Tipsy Troop. It was normal for the three of them to be so drunk that they could barely speak coherently, but they were usually so good about keeping their orders straight. They had gotten sloppy and out of control in the Devil's absence, and Dice wasn't going to stand for it.

He would have thought that the Tipsy Troop would have gotten angry about the new dealer telling them how to do their jobs, but they took his scolding to heart, even though they all knew that it had been an empty threat. Within a matter of moments, Dice could see that they were beginning to put more effort into their work. This wasn't the first time that something like this had happened either. Mangosteen, Chips Bettigan, Mr. Chimes, and Hopus Pocus had responded like this after he had told them to get things under control.

Dice didn't know a whole lot about what the others jobs were, it just seemed as though the others needed nothing more than a motivational scolding. Still, after awhile Dice figured that he should probably learn just what the other jobs at the casino were, just in case something _did_ go wrong.

Between keeping the others on task and learning about what their jobs amounted to, Dice learned many things about his coworkers that he had never considered before. Some of his coworkers were more closed up, such as Phear Lap and Mr. Wheezy. Others still were almost eager to share their stories, including just what had led them to work for the casino in the first place.

Pip and Dot, for example, had not always been two distinct creatures, but one. A very lonely Pip who had been so desperate for company that he had made a deal with the Devil. Pip was forced into servitude for all eternity, but the Devil stayed true to his word and gave him his other half, Dot. The two fought frequently, but there was no denying how close they were, and not just because they shared the same body.

It was an unusual story, but it wasn't actually the one that intrigued Dice the most. That honor went to Mr. Chimes. Before Dice actually went out of his way to interact with the little monkey, he barely ever saw him. Mr. Chimes had a fear of adults, so he, along with Hopus Pocus, mostly just entertained the children of gamblers.

Mr. Chimes hadn't been eager to talk to Dice, but Hopus Pocus had. That rabbit was a strange fellow. He liked to have fun, but when it came to matters that he really cared about, namely magic and children, he could get rather serious. Hopus Pocus was protective over Mr. Chimes, because the little monkey was not, in fact, a 'mr.', but a young child.

Mr. Chimes had once been a slave owned by a traveling circus. A few years ago the circus had come to the Inkwell Isles, and when they had left, they had accidentally left Chimes behind. The young monkey hadn't had anywhere to call home, and he was much too small to properly take care of himself. It wasn't long before the Devil had found him and made him an offer that he couldn't refuse. Mr. Chimes would have work, shelter, and protection. Yes, in exchange he would have to give up his soul, but to a young child who would likely be dead within a matter of days, it hadn't been much of a decision at all.

Mr. Chimes had been too young to truly understand what a soul was. He didn't know what he had given up, and everybody at the casino, especially the Devil, wanted to keep it that way.

Dice learned everything he could about his coworkers. Their jobs, their pasts, their desires. The more he knew about a person, the more of a hold he had over them. Dice didn't have any plans on using this information against his coworkers, it was more of an insurance, just in case he needed it.

And Dice had come to learn that there were two basic ways to get respect. Through fear, and through trust. Dice was a proud man, but he knew better than to believe that he could gain respect through fear and intimidation, not when he was working for the prince of darkness, the Devil himself.

Trust though... _that_ he could do. Dice was a charming fellow, if he did say so himself. Give a few charming smiles, listen to what the others had to say, and it was as simple as that. Suddenly people were all too willing to open up to him.

Even when people didn't want to open up about their past before the casino, or what exactly their deal with the Devil had been, they were still eager to talk to him. Mr. Wheezy was probably the most tight-lipped about his past out of all of the casino workers, but he was all too happy to talk about most anything else with Dice.

"You're really taking this whole manager role to heart." Mr. Wheezy commented with a smirk as he looked at Dice over his glass. The cigar had been watching carefully as Dice interacted with the other casino workers. It had been annoying, but Dice had let him do what he wanted, just so long as he didn't get in his way.

Dice glared at Mr. Wheezy in annoyance. "I'm not a manager." Dice just wanted things to be more professional. He didn't appreciate how Mr. Wheezy seemed to find his interactions with the others to be amusing. Dice had a job to do, and it wasn't to entertain the cigar.

Mr. Wheezy chuckled and gestured for the Tipsy Troop, who Dice had just finished telling off, to bring another drink. Mr. Wheezy handed the drink to Dice and all but forced him to sit down on the stool next to him.

"Don't be ridiculous, Dice." Mr. Wheezy said. "The Boss fired the old manager because of you, and then you were hired to replace him. I thought you were smart enough to realize that meant that his job, including being manager, was now yours."

Dice rolled his eyes. "I'm not interested in replacing anybody." He didn't necessarily have a problem with taking on a managerial role, but he wouldn't do so just because that was what was convenient for everybody else.

Mr. Wheezy raised an eyebrow at him. "Say what you want, Dice, but you're a natural at this." Mr. Wheezy took a drink from his glass, finishing it off. "And you can't tell me that you don't enjoy it."

Dice didn't deny it. What was the point when Mr. Wheezy was right? Dice enjoyed the feeling of being in charge. He got a bit of a rush when his coworkers treated him as though he was a figure in authority. Especially since, considering how long he had been working at the casino compared to the rest of the them, he should be fairly low on the casino hierarchy. They either didn't seem to remember, or didn't seem to care, how new Dice was to this job. They _respected_ him, and that was really all that Dice wanted.

Of course, being in charge, even just temporarily, wasn't all fun and games. It there was any real problem in the casino, the workers who would usually go to the Devil about it began to come to Dice instead.

"Boss, Wheezy, we've got a problem." Mangosteen interrupted their chat. Dice sighed at the term that Mangosteen had been insisting on using for him these past few days. Nobody could convince him to stop.

"What is it now, Mango?" Mr. Wheezy looked as annoyed as Dice felt. Mangosteen wasn't exactly the brightest fellow, and he frequently came to them with problems that he was more than capable of taking care of himself.

"It's the boss' office." Mangosteen said, which made both Mr. Wheezy and Dice grow tense. Dice didn't have an office, which meant that Mangosteen had to be talking about the Devil's office. Nobody had been in there for nearly a week, not since the Devil had left. What kind of 'problem' could have happened in there?

"Alright, we're coming." Dice finished off his glass and rose to his feet. As he expected, Mr. Wheezy followed his example. The cigar had been having so much fun tailing Dice these past few days, why would he stop now?

Mangosteen led them past the casino floor to the back. He explained to them that he had gotten the feeling that something was wrong, which was why he had investigated the office in the first place. Mangosteen was a dimwitted creature, but that was the cost for his abilities. Mangosteen couldn't necessarily see into the future, but he could sense things. His powers were unpredictable at best. In most cases, when Mangosteen tried to find answers, he found nothing but fog. Sometimes though, Mangosteen would see impressions and answers so clearly in his mind's eye it was as though they were right in front of him.

Nobody but the Devil could truly recognize whether Mangosteen's 'visions' meant something or not. There was a good chance that there was nothing wrong with the Devil's office, but Dice figured that there was no harm in checking. There wasn't even the risk that he would have a run in with the Devil there, because, according to Mr. Wheezy, their boss had been spending some time in his lair in Hell.

Dice didn't know what exactly his boss was doing in Hell, none of them did, but Mr. Wheezy assured him that this kind of thing happened fairly regularly. Usually when the Devil needed a break from the foolishness of mortals. Based on how antsy the other casino workers were, Dice thought that it was safe to say that the Devil hadn't been gone for this long in quite some time. Mr. Wheezy wasn't concerned yet, so neither was he, even if he _was_ curious about what had driven the Devil off for so long.

It couldn't have been just because Dice had been avoiding him...could it?

When they reached the Devil's office, before they even opened the door, Dice could tell that there was something seriously wrong. There was a dark aura coming from the room, one so powerful that Dice could actually _see_ it seeping out. It was a black, eerily opaque fog that had random glints of blood red within it.

"That's not good." Mr. Wheezy seemed to draw back slightly. He looked extremely nervous, and mr. Wheezy wasn't the kind who got nervous easily.

"There's something wrong in Hell." Mangosteen said uneasily.

Dice glared at his coworkers. They had worked for the Devil for who knows how long and they were _still_ unnerved about darkness? It was pathetic. "It's _Hell._ What do you expect?"

"The boss doesn't often let Hell seep into the casino." Mr. Wheezy's eyes darted around in concern. He looked from Dice to Mangosteen. "I think somebody should check up on him."

Dice raised an eyebrow. " _Check up_ on him?" The Devil may behave childishly, but he didn't need a babysitter.

Mangosteen and Mr. Wheezy both looked at him. Dice didn't like the look in their eyes, but he had a guess as to what it could mean. "Let me guess, you're volunteering _me."_ It wasn't even a question.

"It's nothin' against you, kid," Mr. Wheezy said quickly. "The boss likes you, and you're not afraid of him."

Dice crossed his arms and glared at the old cigar. "Yes, but I've also been trying to _avoid_ him."

"Look, I get that you're mad at the boss," Mr. Wheezy said. "But if he needs help-"

"He is the _Devil._ " Dice said shortly. "He doesn't need help."

Mr. Wheezy snorted. "We all know that's not true."

"Boss, " Mangosteen tugged on Dice's sleeve, interrupted the two of them. "The dark is spreading."

Dice scowled and pushed Mangosteen away from him. When he took another look at the door to the Devil's office, he saw that Mangosteen was right. The fog was getting darker, and there was more of it. Not an awful lot, but it was clearly spreading. If it continued like that…

"The boss needs to calm down." Mr. Wheezy's voice was calm, almost comforting. Dice would have prefered it if he continued to speak in that patronizing way of his. It would be better than this. "He won't listen to any of us."

"And what makes you think he'll listen to me?" Dice argued.

"What makes you think he won't?" It wasn't a strong argument, but it wasn't any weaker than Dice's was.

Dice didn't want to go after the Devil. He didn't want to help his boss when the Devil had been the cause of so much trouble for him. But he didn't want the powers of Hell to seep into the casino and stir up trouble not when he had put so much effort into keeping things running smoothly.

More than that though, Dice just wanted things to go back to normal. He didn't want to resent his boss. He didn't want to be the Devil's puppet. He didn't want his boss to feel like he had to throw a fit down in the depths of Hell. He just wanted things to be like they were before.

Dice wasn't so foolish as to think that going in there and finding the Devil, talking with him, would change everything, but if it could change _something…_

"How will I find him?" Dice asked as he put his hand on the door handle and opened it before he could talk himself out of it.

"You'll know." Mr. Wheezy said cryptically, which Dice should have expected. He was about to make the journey into _Hell._ It was the Devil's wealm. Dice didn't know how the land of the dead worked, he had never been there, because he had never died. He wouldn't be surprised if he would somehow be able to sense the Devil's presence down there.

When Dice entered the Devil's office, he nearly didn't recognize it. The black fog was _everywhere._ It seemed to burn right through his skin and took a hold of his soul. The room didn't feel natural, but looking back towards Mangosteen and Mr. Wheezy, they seemed to feel just fine, so Dice choked his uneasy feelings up to nerves. He had been working at the Devil's casino for a few months now. He had become familiar with the Devil's influence and power.

How much worse could Hell be?


	6. Chapter 6

The Devil employed fools. Lazy, overly sensitive, dramatic, incompetent _fools._

He didn't think he expected much from his employees. The job was rough, the hours were long, and the pay was nonexistent. The Devil knew that under these conditions the quality of work would be lacking, and he didn't actually mind it. He owned and controlled the souls of most of his employees, and the one that he didn't have was one that could still be influenced. Not controlled, but influence.

The Devil normally liked to have a sense of control, but he truly didn't mind not owning Dice's soul. Dice was one of the most independent and strong-willed creature the Devil had ever known. Not just that, but Dice was the hardest worker that had ever stepped foot in the casino. He wasn't even there because he had to be. Maybe at first that had been it, but Dice had grown to love his job. He continued to do his work there because he _wanted_ to.

Dice was different from everybody else. He was unique. There was a _reason_ why The Devil was so fond of Dice, and he wasn't afraid to admit it. The Devil knew that at least some of his employees were aware of how he felt about Dice, which made their decision that much more unforgivable and infuriating.

The Devil understood why his employees had sent somebody into Hell after him. It always unnerved them when he spent some time in his natural home. They usually left him alone, but the Devil wasn't surprised that they had acted differently this time around, because it really had been different.

The Devil wasn't used to being ignored, and he never liked it. He _hated_ it when it was _Dice_ that was the one who was ignoring him. The Devil knew why Dice was mad at him. He didn't agree with it, but he understood it. The Devil would have thought that Dice's anger would just tide over if given time, and he had been willing to be patient and wait.

That was what the Devil had planned to do, but his damn emotions had betrayed him. After he had confronted Dice about pushing the boundaries, he all but shut down. Dice had continued going about his business, even if he was clearly more agitated than he normally was. The Devil had been as far from 'business as usual' as he could get. He couldn't go out onto the casino floor without feeling like he was doing something wrong. He couldn't focus on his office work without wishing that Dice would come in and keep him company.

They were in the same building, but the Devil missed Dice. It was pathetic. He was an immortal being, and mortal-like emotions or not, he shouldn't have to deal with stuff like this.

The Devil hadn't known how to handle these emotions. The more time that passed, the more he had to fight down the urge to approach Dice and do whatever he could to have things between them be back to the way that it was before. The Devil didn't want to do that. He was a prideful creature. If he had refused to bow down and say that he was wrong when he didn't think he was millenia ago when he had been kicked out of Heaven, he wasn't about to do so now.

The Devil had figured that if he couldn't remain in the casino without doing something that he would probably regret, then he would go somewhere else. The Devil didn't want to say that he had run away to Hell, but he knew full well that it was exactly what he had done.

He didn't have to keep his powers in check when he was in Hell, so he hadn't bothered trying. The Devil had let his anger and frustration escape him when he was in the safety of his own home. He hadn't meant for his powers to seep back through to the casino, though he wasn't surprised that it had happened.

He should have been more careful. He should have felt that his powers had leaked, and that his employees would have not just noticed, but have been scared by it. They were all a bunch of cowards that hated it when he showed even the smallest sigh of power. The Devil wouldn't have been all that concerned if one of his employees came into Hell after him. Hell was never a pleasant place, but it was bearable for most of his employees. It was bearable because, in a way, they belonged there. If somebody had sold their soul to the Devil, while they would have to go through eternal punishment after they had died, so long as they were alive, Hell wouldn't hurt them.

But that was only _if_ they had sold their soul to the Devil, and Dice hadn't.

"Whoever had the idea to send you in there had better _pray_ that I don't find out who they are." The Devil growled. He paced around Dice's quarters, his tail flicking in irritation. Dice didn't answer, but the Devil hadn't expected him to. Dice lay completely unresponsive on his bed, in the exact same state as he had been when the Devil had found him.

The Devil had been focused on nothing but himself all while he had been in Hell, but he had still immediately felt it when there had been a disturbance. He hadn't known what it was at the time, but he had known that whatever it was wasn't supposed to have happened at all. Hell was a predictable place, it was ever the same, so it was always a matter of interest when there was even the smallest change.

The moment that the Devil had felt a disturbance, he opened up a portal and had it take him to where the trouble was. The Devil had been surprised to see Dice there, but he hadn't hesitated to get him out of the casino. Mortals were not meant to see Hell. There were creatures, images, and thoughts that resided in Hell that the weak senses of mortals just couldn't handle. Dice couldn't have been in Hell for more than a few moments, but the Devil was still concerned that it might have destroyed his mind anyways.

The Devil had hoping that Dice would be better upon being returned to the mortal realm, but he was just as bad off as he had been before. Dice wasn't unconscious, but he wasn't completely aware either. The Devil knew that Dice felt physical discomfort, but he was also stuck in the psychological torture of his own mind.

Dice was experiencing the worst of reality and disillusionment, and the Devil could only think of one way to drag him out of it. He hesitated to do it, because it was a risky move, on both of their parts. It would take a lot of power, and the Devil wasn't entirely sure if he was desperate enough to give up that power yet. And even if he was, he doubted that Dice would accept it.

The reason why those that had signed a soul contract could tolerate the pits of Hell, at least for a time, was because of how the contract worked. For all intents and purposes, when one signed away their soul, they became a demon. Demons lived in Hell, thus, those who signed away their souls could stand to be in Hell.

Most people thought of Hell as a location, the Devil saw it more as a sentient being that could sense one's aura. If they had an aura of a demon, as the debtors did, they could pass through unharmed. If they had the aura of a departed sinner, they were punished. If they were a trespasser, they were seen as a threat and attacked.

If Dice hadn't already been into the pits of Hell, then the solution for him to not be seen as a tresspasser was simple enough. He would have just had to sign away his soul and become a debtor instead. Dice _had_ been to Hell though, and it wouldn't do him any good to become a debtor at this point. He had already experienced Hell, and signing away his soul wouldn't change that.

The only thing that the Devil could think to do was to change Dice's perception. In Dice's current state, his soul saw Hell as something unknown and dangerous, and both his body and mind reacted in kind. The Devil couldn't change what Dice had seen and felt during his short visit to Hell, but he _could_ change how Dice viewed things. All he had to do was change Dice's soul. Make it more like his own.

The Devil had only done something like this a handful of times because it was far more personal than a soul contract. It wasn't easy to change a soul, and especially not to this degree. If the Devil could think of any other option, he would go with it. There wasn't much he could do though. Dice had seen the fires of Hell, and his soul was afraid. The only way to make it not be afraid was to make it feel like it had nothing to fear.

There was only one soul that truly didn't fear Hell, and that was the Devil's. The only way that he could calm Dice's frantic and frightened soul was by giving it the ability to feel the world as he did.

The Devil had to give Dice some of his power...some of his very _soul._

If Dice was most anybody else, the Devil wouldn't even be considering the option. People went mad with power all the time. Just imagine the chaos and destruction that somebody who literally had the powers of the Devil might cause. Not that the Devil minded a little chaos and destruction sometimes, but he couldn't exactly have people running around taking credit for _his_ work.

He knew that Dice wouldn't do that. The Devil wasn't so blind that he had failed to see how power hungry Dice was, but he didn't think that ' _ruling the world and ruining lives'_ was the kind of power that Dice was interested in. The man struck the Devil as more of a ' _I'll let you do what you like, just so long as we both know who's in charge here'_ kind of fellow.

If there was anybody in this casino that the Devil could trust to not run wild with such incredible power, it was Dice. He would probably just be content with the knowledge that he had the power at all. That was, if Dice accepted the deal at all.

Or if the Devil even wanted to strike up the deal in the first place.

A small part of the Devil wondered where his hesitation came from, if he wasn't worried about Dice using the power in a way that he shouldn't then what was the problem? The Devil told himself that he didn't understand, but deep down he knew that he did, he just didn't want to admit it to himself. The problem wasn't in giving away his power, it was in _who_ he was planning on giving it to.

The Devil wasn't going to give Dice powers because he saw great potential for evil in him, even though the potential was most definitely there. No, the Devil was mostly considering it because he didn't want to lose Dice in his own mind.

He was doing this because he _cared_ about Dice. Gah, _damn_ these human emotions! But did he really care about Dice enough to give him these powers?

What really annoyed and, honestly, scared the Devil was that he already knew what the answer was.

"Dice," The Devil growled, though his tone was softer than it normally was. "Look at me." Soft tone or not, The Devil knew how to command his employees. No matter the state that Dice was in, even if he was unconscious or asleep, he would hear and obey the Devil's orders. Dice may have the will to resist the Devil's command, but that was impossible for him in this state.

Dice grimaced slightly, but after a tense moment he opened his eyes and looked at the Devil, waiting. Dice's eyes were cold and emotionless, but not in the way that they usually were. Dice's dark eyes were usually professional and calculating. At that moment, Dice's eyes just looked dead.

"Do you understand me?" The Devil kept that commanding tone in his voice.

Dice blinked dully and nodded ever so slightly. That was good enough of an answer for the Devil.

"I can fix you," The Devil said. "I can give you some of my power, and it will make this go away." The Devil was tempted to keep it at that, but he knew that Dice wouldn't go for it. Dice knew him far too well at this point, he had learned that there was always a catch. Dice was far more likely to make a deal when he knew the downsides to it than if he was kept in the dark.

"You would have to make a deal with me," The Devil said. "I won't take your soul," The Devil didn't think that he would ever have any interest in trying to get Dice's soul out of a deal. "But a part of my soul would attach itself to yours." The Devil didn't know what kind of repercussions there might be, because every soul responded to his in different ways.

Some people had souls that were completely incompatible with his, and the bond ultimately ended up destroying them. Some people flourished with the Devil's help. Some people were just completely unaffected.

The Devil didn't have to say that there might be consequences, Dice was far too smart to not have already guessed it. Dice had to know that it was a risk, but he also had to know that he didn't have much of a choice.

"I'm not asking you to trust me." The Devil held out a clawed hand. "I'm asking you to make a deal with me." Dice eyed him carefully. Even disoriented and in pain, he was too cautious make a deal recklessly.

Finally, Dice weakly lifted his gloved hand and brushed it against the Devil's claws. Dice couldn't keep his hand raised, but he had made his intentions clear. The Devil took Dice's hand and kept a strong hold on it. Dice let out a low moan, but he didn't try to pull his hand away.

The Devil took a deep breath and just let his powers build up within him. He focused his powers into his right hand. The Devil clenched his claws, digging them into Dice's skin. He sent his powers coursing through Dice's veins. It was a quick and easy procedure, but it wasn't pleasant for either of them. Even after letting go of just this small amount of his power was completely draining for the Devil, and Dice had all too much power rushing into him at once.

Uncomfortable as it was, it was all over in just a matter of moments. The Devil let go of Dice's hand and let it fall back onto the bed. The Devil felt exhausted, but also relieved. It had worked, and he only had to see Dice's eyes to know it. They were still tired and dull, but his eyes weren't dark as sin anymore, they were a vibrant green, brimming with the Devil's magic.

"Get some rest." The Devil said, because it was exactly what he himself intended to do. They both needed to recover. Come morning, they had a lot of work that they needed to do. Dice may have powers, but learning to control them was going to be no easy task. The Devil knew that Dice would rise up to the challenge. After all, the man hadn't disappointed him yet, why would he start now?

* * *

 **A/N: I feel like I made the Devil too soft for this chapter, but the way that I see it, when he gets sentimental, he gets sentimental to the max. This certainly isn't the first time that I've shown that the Devil has emotions in this story, it's just maybe the most obvious.**


	7. Chapter 7

Darkness, heat, pain, that was all that Dice had been aware of when he had gone to Hell, and for the hours that followed. It had felt like the pain would never stop. The only reason that it had stopped at all was because the Devil had pulled him out of the darkness. Dice was still mad that the Devil had all but controlled him before, but he accepted that he would still be lost if it wasn't for the Devil, so Dice thought he could cut his boss some slack, for now.

Especially since Dice needed the Devil to help him figure out how to control these newfound powers of his.

Dice hadn't met very many creatures that had powers. It wasn't the kind of thing that one was born with. Very few people could figure out how to give themselves powers. Everybody else had to rely on the Devil and his deals, and that just hadn't been something that Dice had been interested in.

When it had been the one choice that he'd had to escape from the piece of Hell that had gotten a grip on his mind, Dice had taken it. Now, he had powers.

The powers weren't hard to control, they were just odd. Dice couldn't do a whole lot, but what he _could_ do he did with ease. Dice could choose to put a magical level of force into his commands, much like the Devil could, except not nearly as effectively. Dice could take the deck of playing cards that he had received from the Devil on that very first day and he could bring it to life. The cards followed his every whim, Dice could do it almost without even trying. It felt almost instinctive for him.

The Devil told him that this was a good sign, that their souls were compatible with each other. Dice didn't know how he felt about that. He was aware that this connection with the Devil was what made it so easy to use the demon's powers at all, and he hadn't failed to notice how much more the rest of the casino employees seemed to respect him since the incident.

None of them had said anything, but they didn't have to. Dice could see it so clearly in their eyes they might as well be wearing a sign that explicitly told him, though he didn't know if this was another 'gift' from the Devil, or if the casino workers had just forgotten how to be subtle. They knew that he had been in Hell, and how it had affected his soul. They knew that the Devil had given him powers, and that it wasn't something that the boss would have done for just anybody.

So there were upsides to having this connection to the Devil, Dice knew that there were, he just wasn't in the mood to truly appreciate them. Dice practiced his magic until his playing cards felt like an extension of his own hands. He went out on the casino floor among the rest of the employees, just like he had done before, and he took notice of the respect and slight awe and fear in their eyes, but he didn't truly appreciate any of it, because this wasn't what Dice had wanted.

Dice felt closer to the Devil than he had before, and it wasn't in a way that he liked. Their connection with each other had given them both more understanding. Dice knew that, in some ways, he was seeing the world through the Devil's eyes. It was how he could control his magic with such ease, because he saw his magic as an extension of himself. It was very insightful, but Dice didn't know how he felt about some of the insights that he had found.

The biggest change in how Dice saw things that he knew had to be influenced by the Devil within him was how he felt about the casino itself. Before Dice had foolishly made his way down to Hell, he had felt comfortable in the casino. It was where he did the work that he loved, but it was still just a casino for him.

Immediately following the incident, when Dice had been lost in the Hell of his own mind, he had felt terrified of the casino. He hadn't felt safe. Dice had been able to feel it when the Devil had taken him out of Hell, but he hadn't been able to calm down on his own. Dice had felt as though he was sitting at the edge of an abyss, and a monster within was just waiting to drag him back down into the depths. The casino was connected to Hell, though one normally wasn't able to tell. Dice's soul had been in a fragile and sensitive state after just those few moments in Hell, so it was able to feel the connection from the casino anyways.

Now, Dice still felt that clear connection between the casino and Hell. In fact, he would go as far as to say that he saw the connection more clearly than he had before. Everywhere he went in the casino, he could feel the powers of Hell seeping in. The veil that had separated the land of the living and the land of the dead was so thin that it was practically transparent.

Despite this, Dice didn't feel threatened by those powers. If anything, he felt a certain sense of ease at the knowledge. He understood why he felt this way, because Hell, and, therefore, the casino, was the Devil's home. It was his realm, but it wasn't _Dice's_ realm. He wasn't supposed to feel comfortable in Hell. It just wasn't natural. Especially after his experience there.

It was very unnerving to have knowledge and experiences that he knew should make him feel one way, and in reality he felt the complete opposite.

Everywhere that Dice went in the Casino, the floor, the Devil's office, even his own bedroom, he felt the same way. It wasn't necessarily a bad feeling, but Dice didn't feel completely comfortable with it. He knew that he would adjust to it given time, and considering there was no way to get away from the feeling, as he couldn't leave the casino, he had all the time in the world to get used to it.

Whether he liked it or not.

Since it didn't matter where in the casino he was, Dice spent the majority of his time on the casino floor. He distracted himself by focusing completely on a simple task, dealing cards. When he got too exhausted to continue his work, as he was still far more physically weak then he would have liked, he would go to his room and practice his magic. Not that he really needed practice, but he needed that mental distraction.

When he needed sleep, Dice left his room and made his way to the Devil's office. As exhausted as he still was, he couldn't bring himself to relax. Not unless he was right there at the Devil's side. Dice felt a little humiliated that he was relying on the demon that he was still furious at just so he could relax enough to sleep. It was getting easier though.

"Well, Dice, what a surprise to see you here." Dice could do without the Devil's snarky welcome every single time. Fortunately, the Devil didn't give him _too_ hard of a time, though that was mostly just because he knew that Dice would only tolerate so much from him.

"If you want me to go back to ignoring you, I can do that." Dice said. He was always able to get the demon lord to leave him alone with just those few words. Neither of them had any interest in going back to how they had been when Dice had been _really_ mad at the Devil.

"I think I have a better idea." The Devil smirked and got up from the seat behind his desk. "How about I teach you a new trick?"

Dice raised an eyebrow. "What did you have in mind?

The Devil walked around the desk and slowly slinked towards Dice. He had a certain mischievous gleam in his eyes that Dice had come to recognize all too well. He was up to something, he usually was, but Dice could tell that this was something bigger.

"Teleportation." The Devil smirked. "I've got a feeling that you'll have a knack for it."

Dice wasn't exactly hesitant to learn a new skill with his magic, but he wasn't so sure about this particular ability. "What would be the point of that? I wouldn't be able to do squat with a power like that." Dice knew that the ability to teleport wouldn't change the fact that he couldn't leave the casino. The only other place that he could go was Hell, and Dice was not all that eager to make his way back there.

"I've got something that I want to show you." The Devil said. "I want you to take us there."

Dice was not convinced with the Devil's words. "If you really wanted to take me somewhere, why not just take me there?" Dice knew all too well that the Devil had the ability to make him do something against his will. The Devil didn't strike Dice as the kind of person who would hesitate to take something that he wanted by force.

"Because you like to do things on your own." The Devil walked behind Dice and slung an arm over his shoulder. The Devil's tail slowly wrapped around Dice's waist. The Devil was in a possessive, touchy mood. Dice hadn't seen his boss in such a mood, but he had heard about it. He was still upset with the Devil, but he found that he didn't mind the demon's behavior. The smirking. The closeness. The fact that the lord of darkness and sin was at least attempting to take Dice's feelings into consideration before he acted.

"I'm not asking you to forgive me." The Devil said in a low, quiet voice. He leaned his head closer to Dice's. He was so close that Dice could actually feel the Devil's breath on his skin. "But I need you to trust me."

Well, how could Dice say 'no' to something like that?

"If you take me back to Hell, we'll see just how immortal you are." Dice said, completely serious. The Devil chuckled at his threat and tightened the grip that his tail had around Dice's body. It wasn't so tight that it felt restricting or painful, it was just firm.

"You've got yourself a deal." The Devil took Dice's hands in his own and gripped them. "Now, let's see what you can do." It wasn't the most conventional of positions for a magic lesson, but Dice somehow knew that it wouldn't make a difference. This wouldn't be like bringing playing cards to life, where he had to use his hands to manipulate the cards.

"Normally, you would have to mentally see your destination in your mind's eye to get where you want to go." The Devil said, still in that low voice of his. "Just this once, I'll have that covered. All you have to do is feel the shadows that hold the world together, and let them pull you."

Dice stiffened. He didn't like the sound of that With the Devil just behind him, he felt Dice's change in posture. The Devil put a clawed hand on Dice's shoulder. Just like with his tail, the grip wasn't bad, just firm. It was almost reassuring, which was really weird, considering who was initiating the contact.

Who knew the Devil had it in him to be gentle and reassuring?

"I know what you're thinking." The Devil's voice was a whisper, and resembled the voice of a mortal much more than Dice had ever heard from the Demon. "You're not going to fall into the darkness. I won't let it happen."

Well, wasn't that sweet.

Dice took a deep breath and focused his energies to summon his powers. He closed his eyes, as he knew that he worked best with first time attempts at magic if he couldn't see what his efforts were doing. Magic in progress could be pretty distracting, and dangerous. Still, he knew that his powers were working, and even though he couldn't see them, he knew that his eyes were glowing a bright green, like they did when magic coursed through his veins.

Dice felt a cold chill seep into the room. It was at its worst at his feet, where the chill was so cold that his feet burned, even through his shoes. There was a power beyond him at work, and Dice knew that it wasn't coming from the Devil. The demon may be in a touchy-feely sentimental mood, but he wasn't the kind of creature who expected somebody to do something, and then he took over the task midway through.

No, Dice _knew_ that what he was feeling was the powers of Hell, he recognized it, and he wanted nothing to do with it.

"Finish what you started, Caleb." The Devil said. Dice froze at the use of his first name. He hadn't been called by that name since he had started working at the casino. This was the first time that the Devil had actually used his first name. "You've found the darkness, now let go. Don't resist. Just let it take us to where we need to go."

Letting himself be taken by the darkness was the absolute last thing that Dice wanted to do. And yet, at the Devil's encouragement, it was exactly what he found himself doing anyways. Dice wanted to blame the Devil for the decision. He wanted to believe that the demon lord had used his powers of influence and manipulation to make him do as he said. Dice couldn't do that though, because he knew that it wasn't the case. As much as he wanted to deny it, Dice had let the darkness at his feet completely engulf him at his own free will.

Dice flinched as it felt like the very floor beneath his feet seemed to become less solid and he began to feel like he was sinking. It started slowly at first, like quicksand, before the floor seemed to give away all together and it felt like they were free falling. Dice kept his eyes squeezed shut, because if there was nothing but eternal darkness surrounding them, he didn't want to know. And if there actually was some nightmarish Hellspawn just inches away, he _really_ didn't want to know.

They fell for a few moments before Dice felt a sharp tugging, both in his mind, and around his waist. His gut instinct was that it was a dangerous demon that was there to devour him, but Dice wasn't scared. If anything, he felt calmer than he had for awhile. He knew, somehow, deep within his soul, that this tugging was the Devil. That may not be much more reassuring to most people, but if Dice was going to be going through a portal that obviously had a connection to Hell, he wanted to have the king of darkness there at his side.

Maybe it was foolish to feel safe in the arms of a fallen angel, but Dice didn't care. He would take any form of protection from the pits of Hell that he could get.

Dice didn't know how portals worked, though he made a mental note to discuss it with the Devil at a later date. He knew that he was the one that had summoned the portal, and that the Devil was simply helping him to navigate. And yet, Dice still felt like _he_ was the one ultimately in control, not the Devil. This, of course, didn't make much sense, as Dice had no idea what he was doing or where they were going, and he couldn't figure out how to calm himself down for long enough to figure these things out.

They weren't in the portal for too long before the stiff and dark feelings that reminded Dice of Hell seemed to disappear so quickly that it almost made him nauseous. Dice finally opened up his eyes and he actually breathed a sigh of relief. They were back in the mortal world.

Dice clenched his teeth and pulled himself away from the Devil's grip. "If you _ever_ make me do that again…"

"Hey, I didn't make you do anything." The Devil smirked at him, because they both knew that he was right. Dice cursed his boss, not even bothering to keep it to himself. And here he had thought that the Devil had been behaving chivalrously before. The demon was just as much of a villainous cad as he ever had been.

"Calm down, Dice. You're just fine, aren't you?" The Devil's tone was teasing. He was _enjoying_ riling Dice up. "I wouldn't have brought you here if I didn't think you could handle it." Dice wished that the Devil would make up his mind about how he interacted with him already, because Dice was getting extremely mixed messages.

"You'll get used to using a portal." The Devil said. His tone was still mischievous, but not teasing anymore. "At least, I hope you do, because if you still don't want to use these portals, then I'd have had this place built for nothing."

"...Built?" Dice finally bothered to take a look at where they were, and it wasn't a place that he recognized. There was a similar feel here as there was in the casino, but it was also distinctly different. It felt unfamiliar, but not unwelcoming. "Where are we?"

The Devil chuckled, his eyes gleamed dangerously. Dice could tell that he had just been waiting for him to ask this very question. The Devil gestured with his arms to the bare square room that they were in. "Welcome to the die house."

"The what?" Dice chuckled.

"You heard me." The Devil raised an eyebrow at him and nodded his head towards one of the windows. "Take a look."

Dice made his way to one of the windows and took a glance outside. He hadn't expected to see anything, and in a way he didn't. There was nothing out there except for grass, trees, and the ocean in the distance...none of them were things that were visible from the casino. In fact, everything looked far too peaceful and clean for it to even be anything found on Isle 3.

"Are we...on Isle 1?" Dice asked quietly.

"Knew you'd get it." The Devil came over and slung an arm over his shoulder. "I lost a lot of soul contracts. I don't need them back right now, but I'd like to have an idea of what the debtors are up to, as well as remind them that I'm still watching them, So I set up the die houses."

It sounded extremely plausible, but Dice had the feeling that there was more to this. The Devil had a lot of means of intimidation, so why would he go for one like this?

"I need you to run these houses." The Devil said. Dice turned away from the window and looked at his boss.

"You _need_ me to do this, or you _want_ me to do this?" Dice asked.

The Devil let out a low growl that wasn't exactly one of warning. Dice's closest guess was that the Devil was just thinking. "Let's just say it's both." The Devil said after a moment. "Don't think I haven't noticed how jumpy you've been around the casino. I can't have word get around that my own manager is scared of my casino."

"Since when have I been the casino's manager?" Dice asked. He knew that the other employees talked, but he hadn't taken their words seriously.

"You've _always_ been the manager. You just didn't know it." The Devil chuckled.

"Alright, but what does that have to do with this die house?" Dice asked, because he didn't really see the connection. Why was the Devil so hesitant to just tell him what his plan was?

The Devil growled again. "You tried to get away from the casino a while ago, remember?" The Devil's tail slowly began to make its way around Dice's waist again. "I thought you'd like the chance to see a little more of the world than just Inkwell Hell."

"I also remember you saying that you wouldn't make exceptions for me." Dice said.

The Devil leaned closer to him. "Maybe I changed my mind." Well, wasn't this interesting?

"Is this your way of trying to get me to forgive you?" Dice asked.

"Maybe it is." The Devil was, once again, so close to Dice that he could feel the Devil's breath on his skin. "Is it working?"

Dice smirked. His eyes flashed green with a sudden surge of magic. "...I'll get there." Why was it so easy to get mad at the Devil, but so hard to _stay_ mad at him? Dice wasn't happy that the Devil had manipulated his soul so easily, especially since he knew that it would probably happen again. Dice didn't _want_ to forgive the Devil for that very reason.

But the Devil was actually putting effort in getting Dice's forgiveness, far more than he had to, and it actually meant a lot. Especially since Dice knew that the Devil still didn't really think that he had done anything wrong in the first place.

Dice wasn't ready to forgive his boss, but if the Devil was willing to try, then so was he.

Especially since it was a lot easier to work side by side with the Devil than to fight against him every step of the way. Not to mention a Hell of a lot more fun.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: This is a slightly shorter chapter, but I think you'll like it. It doesn't quite go really explicit, so I don't think It's enough to change the rating. If you disagree, please let me know and I'll change it. I hope you don't mind that I don't go all the way in this chapter, but maybe you'll like my first attempt at dipping my toes into the nearly smutty waters.**

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When Dice had first traveled through a portal, he had dreaded even the thought of having a repeat experience. The Devil's portals were connected to Hell, Dice had known this before he had even been through one, and he'd had more than enough Hell for a lifetime. Of course, because they couldn't exactly stay at the new die house, Dice and the Devil had to travel through portal again to get back to the casino.

The Devil had assured him that he would adjust to traveling by portal. Dice still wasn't sure how much he believed him, or how long it would take for him to adjust to the dark magic of the portal. All Dice knew was that it had been a lot easier to take a portal back to the casino than it had been to take one to the die house.

Off the top of his head Dice could think of a number of explanations for this. It could be that he understood how to open a portal. It could be that the casino was a location that he was familiar with, and thus would be able to actually envision in his mind. For all Dice knew, it could have been easier to go through a return portal because he was more relaxed than he had been the first time.

Any of those explanations could be valid, and if Dice was asked about it, he would claim that one of them was the reason behind his more successful second portal. Dice knew that none of these was the case, because he knew exactly why he had felt better about the second portal than the first one.

And it was all because of the Devil.

On the return trip, Dice hadn't needed to rely on the Devil to guide him. Dice knew how to open a portal, and he somehow instinctively knew how to make the portal take them where he wanted to go. Even if it was only his second time opening a portal, Dice didn't have a single doubt in his mind that he could do it on his own if he had to.

But why would he willingly travel through a portal on his own when he could have the Devil right up against him? Most people wouldn't want to know that the Devil was breathing down the back of their necks, but the knowledge almost seemed to comfort Dice in a way that he couldn't even explain.

And that was to say nothing of how crazy it drove him, to have the Devil's tail wrapped around his waist in a nearly protective and certainly possessive way.

Dice didn't know if the Devil knew what he was doing to him, but he wouldn't be surprised if he did. It would be just like the Devil, to do something like this just to get a reaction out of Dice. The man felt like he should feel insulted or annoyed at the very real possibility that the Devil was just messing with him, but he really didn't mind it the way that he thought he would.

It was a little hard to be annoyed with the Devil when Dice was so damn distracted by him. Dice probably could have overcome the distraction if he had wanted to, but he hadn't. The Devil's close proximity had distracted Dice not only from his own irritation, but from his fear of Hell as well. The Devil's presence hadn't exactly chased that fear away entirely, but it had certainly given Dice something else to focus on.

And when Dice focused on something, he didn't do it halfway. He would give the object of interest his complete and total attention.

Dice didn't forget about his responsibilities. Every night he still dealt cards at the casino, as that was his job. He would still practice magic in his room, and this included working with portals. Dice didn't do any teleporting himself when he practiced in his room. Instead, he worked on storing his magical cards in the limbo like realm in the portals, and then pulling them back out again. Dice wasn't perfect at this, but he was getting increasingly better. And the Devil had been right, the more he opened the portals, even if he didn't travel through them, the more used to them he became.

Any time that Dice wasn't doing magic practice with his cards or working on the casino floor, he was with the Devil at one of the die houses. Dice didn't need the Devil to accompany him to the die houses, but he certainly wasn't complaining about his company.

Dice still couldn't believe how much he enjoyed having the Devil at his side.

Most people assumed that the Devil was useless at understanding mortal feelings and motivations, but that couldn't be further from the truth. The Devil was a master at manipulation. He knew the hearts of men so well that he knew how to twist and tempt them. The Devil couldn't exactly do this if he didn't understand mortal emotions in the first place.

So Dice was fairly certain that the Devil knew perfectly well that he didn't need assistance to open a portal. And yet, he still volunteered to go with Dice to the die houses. Not because he needed to, but because he wanted to. And also because he knew that Dice wanted him to go as well.

When Dice needed to get away from the casino, he would go to the Devil and the two of them would teleport to the die house. When they were there, Dice would regularly look out the windows to watch the passersby. At first he hadn't known how he would be able to recognize the debtors with the missing soul contracts. He didn't know what the debtors looked like, and even if he did he still couldn't leave the die house. What were the chances that the debtors would walk right past the die house and he would recognize them when they did?

Apparently, the chances were much higher than he thought. Many creatures on the isles were curious about the die houses that had seemingly shown up overnight. Many creatures stood just outside the die house and just watched it curiously. It didn't take Dice long to notice that there were a number of repeat visitors. They frequently came near the die house, but practiced extreme caution when they were there. None of them dared to wander too close, and whenever any of them was near Dice could feel the power that they gave off, which meant that they had magic, and they were prepared to use it if they had to.

Dice could feel their desperation even from within the walls of the die house. The Devil was probably right in his assumption that the debtors had been given back their soul contracts. If Dice was in their shoes, he would probably be just as paranoid and desperate as they were. What Dice _didn't_ understand though was why none of the debtors ever tried to attack the die house. How was it that so many creatures had power and none of them seemed the least bit tempted to do whatever it takes to keep it?

"They wouldn't dare." The Devil muttered. Dice looked away from the window to his boss and grinned slightly in amusement. The Devil was just lying on the ground, curled up in a particularly sunny spot. Even lounging around on the floor like some common cat, the Devil still had an air of dignity about him.

"What're you goin' on about, Boss?" Dice asked.

The Devil cracked and eye open and stared at him. "I know you're wondering why the cowards aren't trying to attack." Dice knew that he wasn't that much of an open book, so the Devil must have known what he was thinking through their connection. "They can feel my power, and they're not about to risk me taking back their soul contracts." The Devil smirked. "They're probably scared that even without the soul contracts I can still make them do whatever I want."

Dice raised an eyebrow. "Could you?"

The Devil's only response was a chuckle. Dice supposed it didn't truly matter whether the Devil could or couldn't truly manipulate souls without being in possession of the contracts. Dice knew that most of the Devil's power and influence over a person came from their fear of him. Sometimes, the Devil kept his powers vague on purpose, because why go to the effort of trying to intimidate somebody if they were just going to scare themselves senseless with their own imaginations?

Dice smirked and joined the Devil on the ground. The die house wasn't furnished, so it wasn't as though they had much of an option. Neither of them minded though. It wasn't like anybody else was their to question what they were doing on the floor.

Besides that, it was surprisingly comfortable there.

Dice sighed contently and took off one of his pristine white gloves. Just like any other gloved beings, he rarely ever took them off. The skin on his hands was extremely sensitive, and considering he needed his hands to deal cards, it wouldn't do to get them hurt. There were some advantages to having sensitive hands though.

"Your fur is so soft." Dice commented as he began to stroke his bosses fur. The Dice let out a low, content pur that sounded more like a pur than anything, but considering Dice would rather keep his hand attached to his body, he didn't mention it.

"Hm...warm." The Devil commented lazily. Dice had to really fight to keep himself from laughing. He had never imagined that the Devil would become so domesticated. And all it had taken was a little bit of solitude, and a sunny spot for him to lie in. Dice wasn't surprised that the Devil was tired, he was always working himself to the ground. Dice was, however, surprised that the Devil was letting his guard down around him like this.

The Devil didn't allow himself to be seen as anything less than the king of darkness and sin. Very, _very_ few mortals got to see him so relaxed. Dice didn't know what he had done to deserve to be one of the few, but he wasn't about to question it. He was just proud that he got to see a side of the Devil that most creatures didn't.

The Devil had only let Dice see this part of him once before then, just the previous day. When the Devil had relaxed and lay on the ground and suggested that Dice give petting him a try, he had mentioned it so easily that it was as though this was a completely normal thing that they had done thousands of times before.

If it wasn't for their connection, Dice wouldn't have even thought of doing as the Devil said. Because Dice could somehow feel how serious the Devil was, he decided to go for it, and it had been much more natural and casual than he had expected.

Now, Dice felt like this was just as natural as the first time, though it didn't feel casual anymore. Dice didn't understand what was different about it this time. He was doing the exact same thing as he had done the day before. Dice knew that he himself felt the same as he had yesterday, so this slightly different feeling must be coming from the Devil.

Dice was about to ask the Devil about what was going on, because even though the feeling wasn't much different from before, it was just noticeable enough to be mildly annoying, when the different feeling suddenly became so much more powerful that it took Dice's breath away.

"Boss?" Dice paused.

"I want to try something new." The Devil's eyes slowly opened and Dice was shocked to see that they were red. The Devil's eyes were usually plain black. The Devil's dark, soulless eyes frightened many people, but Dice was much more unnerved to see the black surrounded by red. "Do you trust me?"

It was a question that came completely out of nowhere, and it was not the kind of thing that the Devil would ever ask or care about. Still, Dice felt inclined to answer honestly. "Not as far as I can throw you." He wasn't so much of a fool to trust the Devil. Still, Dice smirked at the demon. "What did you have in mind?

The Devil smirked widely. His teeth were no longer blunt, but extremely sharp. Dice had never seen the Devil look as beastly as he did at that moment. "A good time." That was all the warning that Dice got before he felt the Devil's tail wrap around him tighter than he had ever done before.

Using his tail, the Devil jerked Dice down so he was lying on the ground. Dice grunted in slight pain when he hit his head, but that grunt soon turned to a sharp hiss when the Devil put one of his claws against Dice's ungloved hand.

Dice clenched his teeth and stiffened, but he didn't struggle. It wasn't exactly painful, but uncomfortable and unfamiliar, but not necessarily in a bad way either.

With his free hand the Devil took a hold of Dice's gloved hand and pulled the glove off. The Devil took a hold of this hand too. The Devil stood above Dice, his tail around his waist, and his clawed hands gripping at Dice's sensitive skin.

"A good time, huh?" Dice half smirked, half grimaced. He wasn't comfortable in this position, either physically or mentally. Despite this though, he had a pretty good idea of what the Devil had in mind, and uncomfortable or not, Dice didn't want to resist.

"A _very_ good time." The Devil growled. He looked extremely pleased that Dice was going along with this. Dice's eyes widened in shock and amusement when the Devil effortlessly grew another pair of arms.

"You're just full of surprises, aren't you?" Dice smirked. No matter how many times he saw the Devil demonstrate another ability, he was always impressed by it.

"You haven't seen anything yet." The Devil chuckled lowly. He reached down and put a claw through Dice's bow tie, tearing it slightly. Before Dice could complain the Devil tugged at the bow tie, undoing it and pulling it away. The Devil held the slightly torn tie in his claws, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Now, how about we keep it that way?"

Knowing exactly what the Devil had in mind, Dice obediently lifted his head. The Devil moved his tail away from Dice's waist, though the pressure was soon replaced as the Devil knelt down over Dice, straddling him. The Devil took Dice's bow tie and tied it around Dice's head, covering his eyes.

"Not bad, Dice." The Devil said in a low voice. Dice could feel the hands that had blindfolded him scratch slightly at his face. Not enough to truly hurt or leave a scar, but enough to be noticed. The Devil's hands that held Dice's own pulled them down to the ground, pining Dice in place. Dice didn't even flinch. "Let's see just how well behaved you can be."

Dice felt the Devil's tail brush past his knee and begin snaking around his leg. Dice's thigh was soon wrapped up by the Devil's tail, with the pointed tip just barely brushing up against Dice's crotch. Dice couldn't help but twitch at this, and when he heard the Devil's low chuckle he knew that the demon knew _exactly_ what he was doing.

"Bastard." Dice growled. The Devil just laughed at him and tightened the grip of his tail and claws.

"Don't give me that lip, Dice." The Devil's tone made it clear that he was having far too much fun with this, and they hadn't even begun. "I know you can take more than this. Prove me right, and maybe I'll reward you." Dice liked the sound of that.

"And if I don't?" Dice asked. The Devil increased the pressure of the claws on Dice's face, and he could tell by the sudden sting and feel of warm liquid that he the Devil had drawn blood, and he could do a lot worse.

"You wouldn't like the results." The Devil said in a tone that suggested that Dice would actually like the results _a lot._ Still, the Devil had given him a challenge, and Dice had never been the kind of man who backed down from a challenge. He would behave himself and take whatever the Devil felt like doing to him.

Next time...next time, maybe they would shake things up a little bit.

At that moment though, Dice just wanted to see how things would play out.

"I won't disappoint you." Dice said. He couldn't see the Devil, but he could practically _feel_ his smirk.

"Now _that's_ what I like to hear."

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 **A/N:** **I kinda feel like such a tease. The thing is, this is my first time writing something like this, and I really don't think I'm quite ready to go all the way. I'm actually a little worried about if what I wrote was written well.**


	9. Chapter 9

When the Devil had first laid eyes on Dice, he had known that there was something different about him. Before the man had even started working there, Dice had walked around the casino like he owned the place. It was part of the reason why the Devil had found himself drawn to Dice in the first place. The man was confident, but he knew his place, and that was a surprisingly rare combination that the Devil had always been fond of.

The Devil had known that he was intrigued by Dice, and that fascination had only become more intense and focused the better the Devil had gotten to know him. The Devil still didn't know everything about Dice, which was why they had gone through a bit of a rough patch after Dice had realized that he could manipulate his soul. It could be frustrating sometimes to have to deal with Dice's unreasonable mortal sensitivities, but it wasn't enough to detour the Devil from getting to know his manager better.

The Devil thought he knew a fair amount about Dice, but he was still learning new things, and each time he did he found himself being more and more drawn in.

Take the Devil's latest observation for example. Dice wasn't the first person that the Devil had screwed around with. There was a reason, after all, why mortals had a tendency to view adultery, or even just sex in general, as a taboo subject that drew the Devil in. The Devil was an expert in sins and vices, and while he personally didn't see sex as one of the most damning ones, it was certainly one of his personal favorites.

The Devil didn't screw around with all of his employees, but he had definitely done it with a fair few. They all reacted in different ways after the fact. Some of them got embarrassed and felt ashamed of what they had done, which the Devil had always found humorous. He had always found it funny whenever mortals did something that they enjoyed, and then just felt guilty about it later. For some reason, he found it even funnier when it was about sex.

Some of the Devil's employees gained more confidence after spending the night with the Devil, though they refused to talk about what had happened with anybody else. A surprising amount of them just did their best to pretend that nothing had happened, or at the very least that it hadn't meant anything at all.

By far though, the Devil thought that Dice's reaction had to be his favorite.

In the days that followed their little fling, the Devil had begun to spend more time out on the casino floor, and he was amused to see that Dice had started to do the same. The Devil had noticed how cautious Dice had been about the casino in general, and now he was acting like he had never been scared of the place at all.

No, that wasn't it. The Devil could tell that Dice could still feel the connection between the casino and Hell, but instead of shying away from it, it almost seemed like Dice had started to embrace it.

Dice had always acted like he owned the casino. Even before Dice had admitted that he was the manager of the casino, he had done the managerial work. Now, not only did he do the work, but Dice had started to act and talk like the manager as well. Like he knew how everything in the casino should go, and if things didn't happen his way, than it wasn't being done right.

If Dice was anybody else, the Devil would have nipped this behavior in the bud before it had gotten this far. The casino was _his,_ and his employees should recognize that. The thing was, the Devil knew that Dice _did_ recognize him as the boss. Dice didn't try to give orders to undermine the Devil's influence, but to empower it. When Dice gave orders to the casino employees, he was merely speaking for the Devil without consulting him beforehand.

And it was a pretty incredible sight to see.

Dice leaned against a wall in the casino and smirked. He took a drag of his cigar and drew the smoke into his lungs. He watched in satisfaction as Dice worked. The man had never struggled with unruly gamblers, but it was especially entertaining to see him handle them now.

"You lose again, friend." Dice said as he gathered the cards up after the latest round of blackjack. He smoothly began to shuffle the deck of cards while most of the gamblers around him either collected their winnings or groaned in disappointment at their loss. Only one gambler actually seemed to be angry with his loss, and he was the one that Dice had addressed. "Better luck next time."

"Luck." The gambler scoffed unhappily. "Luck's got nothing to do with this game when the damn dealer don't know how to count his cards right."

The Devil snorted. He didn't think this gambler was complaining about Dice using card counting to lean the game in his favor. It sounded to the Devil that the gambler actually thought that Dice was lying about what the actual card numbers added up to, which was just a ridiculous accusation. By the end of the game all of the cards were face up on the table for everybody to see. If Dice was getting his math wrong, then somebody else would have caught it. The Devil really doubted that Dice had miscounted, because it was really simple to add numbers up to 21.

Dice seemed to be just as amused by the gambler's complaint.

"Believe me, if I had wanted to cheat, I would have done so by stacking the cards, _not_ by adding an extra number to your score." Dice raised an eyebrow and lifted his head so he was looking down on the gambler. "You might have better luck next time, but if you're not interested in playing, then I suggest you leave." Dice kept his voice cold and even as he spoke, even as the gambler grew more and more frustrated.

"I guess you've never heard that the customer is always right?" Both Dice and the Devil rolled their eyes at the gambler's words. This was a very common, and very stupid, argument that disappointed gamblers made when they wanted somebody to blame for their losses beyond just bad luck and their own recklessness.

"You're not a 'customer', you're a gambler." Dice reminded him irritably. "A frequent gambler, if I'm right, and as such you should already know that the house always wins. By coming here, you're agreeing to play our games, follow our rules, and consider yourself lucky if you so happen to win. If this arrangement is not good enough for you, then I'd be glad to have someone show you the door."

The Devil snorted. Dice was really giving that guy a telling off. Usually the Devil prefered his employees to refrain from telling the gamblers that luck wasn't on their side, but the gambler's stunned expression made it all worthwhile.

The gambler's face went red with embarrassment and frustration. The man shouted loudly and knocked Dice's deck out of his hands in a fit of anger. Everybody around the table froze. The Devil's tail twitched, but other than that he stayed perfectly still. He could deal with this immature gambler easily, but he wouldn't interfere. He wanted to see how Dice handled the situation.

Dice looked calmly at his deck of cards that was now on the floor. He was still for a moment before he took a deep breath. Dice made a simple gesture with his hands and used his magic to influence the cards to come to life and clean themselves up. Dice had gotten really good at using his magic to manipulate his playing cards. They all knew that he wasn't using his magic because he had to. Dice was just taking this opportunity to show that he not only had magic, but that he wasn't afraid to use it. It was a power play.

"If you're going to be this sore of a loser," Dice bent down and lowered his hand so his deck of cards could walk right up his sleeves. He then calmly stood up and straightened his sleeves and tie. "Then maybe it's best if you just _leave."_ At this final word Dice's eyes flashed green. The Devil smirked and leaned forward. He wanted to see where this would go.

Dice held out his hands toward the rude gambler and began to open a portal right under his feet. The gambler scarcely had time to let out a cry of alarm and fear before he sank down into the portal, which then disappeared so suddenly it was as though it had never been there in the first place. Dice had made it look completely effortless, but the Devil could feel how taxing this show of magic had been. Dice had only ever teleported himself or inanimate objects before. This ability to teleport somebody who had a will to fight was something brand new.

The Devil chuckled and slowly clapped to show his amusement and approval. He approached the table and threw an arm over Dice's shoulder. "Not bad, Dice," The Devil said in a low voice. "Not bad at all."

Dice shrugged the Devil's arm off of him and took the cigar out of his mouth. "I don't like it when people run their mouths and gum up the works." Dice put the Devil's cigar in his own mouth and drew in a slow drag. The Devil chuckled again and wrapped his tail around Dice's waist. He was pleased that the man didn't bother to get out of his grip.

The Devil looked towards the remaining gamblers, who were watching them with cautious curiosity. "Does anybody else have a problem with how my manager does his job?" The Devil raised his voice slightly to make sure that the people at the surrounding tables heard and understood him as well. Nobody said a word. "I didn't think so."

"I ain't some damsel in distress, boss." Dice sounded vaguely annoyed. "I can defend my own honor."

"Don't I know it." The Devil tightened his grip around Dice's waist, though not in a painful way. "You strut around the casino like you're king of the place. I just thought you might want a little help with the unruly gamblers. If you think you can handle it, I'll leave you to it."

The Devil used his tail to bring Dice closer and he whispered to him. "Why don't you stop by my office after work and we can talk about how well you can take care of yourself, King Dice." The Devil chuckled when he saw the subtle blush come over Dice's face. It was likely that nobody else noticed, but he did, and he loved it.

"Get lost, Boss." Dice grumbled. The Devil chuckled and released Dice. He walked away from the table, but he didn't go back to his office. Instead, the Devil returned to the wall he had been leaning against earlier and he resumed his previous position. He was having far too much fun watching Dice work. He didn't want to walk away yet, not when he had just gotten Dice all flustered.

Dice resumed his work dealing cards and running the game. He acted like he didn't know the Devil was watching his every move, but they both knew that he was all too aware of his presence. Dice only acted like he wasn't because he wanted the gamblers he was dealing for to know just how professional and in control he was. If Dice couldn't be thrown off by the Devil, then he couldn't be thrown off by anybody.

Dice was a real professional. The Devil made a mental note to come out on the casino floor more often to watch his king at work...hm, King Dice. That name actually had a nice ring to it.

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 **A/N:** **I'm sorry about the shorter chapter. I didn't want to force myself to write more than I had planned, just because this chapter was 1000 words or so shorter than the other chapters.**

 **The next chapter will probably be a shorter one as well, and I'm sorry to say, it will probably be the last chapter. I only planned so much for this story, and I've reached the point that I don't have anything else planned except the ending.**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: I hate how short this chapter is, but it's kinda less of a chapter and more of an epilogue. I guess I could have drawn it out, but I really hate doing that. I write what feels natural, and sometimes that means that some chapters are shorter than others, and sometimes they're longer. Regardless of the chapter length, I hope you enjoy it, and that you enjoyed this story. Thanks for reading.**

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Dice sighed and rubbed his forehead. Working at the casino had never been the easiest job. It took a lot of work and clever thinking to come up with new ways to con all of the different kinds of people that came to the casino. Dice didn't have a problem with this. He welcomed the challenge.

No matter how much Dice enjoyed overcoming a difficult problem, he had come across one that was more of a pain than anything.

"Sounds like you're having fun." The Devil leaned towards Dice in an almost predatory way. "What's on your mind, Dice?"

"It's these damn contracts." Dice groaned and pushed away the list he had been looking over. The Devil glanced at it and raised an eyebrow.

"The lost contracts? I thought I told you not to worry about those." The Devil said. "We'll get them back."

"How?" Dice glared at his boss. "We can easily wait until they all die, and you'll just reclaim their souls in Hell, but what's the fun in that?" Dice smirked. "After all, you wouldn't be able to torture their souls in this life, and I know how much you like to do that."

The Devil let out a low chuckle and took out his cigar case from his desk draw. The Devil put a cigar in his mouth, and with a snap of his fingers lit it effortlessly. The Devil took a long, slow drag from the cigar, and then offered it to Dice, who accepted it without a second thought. Dice wasn't much of a smoker, but he wasn't a fool either. One just didn't deny an offer from the Devil, not if they had half a brain.

"There _is_ something different about messing with mortal souls." The Devil admitted. "What did you have in mind, King Dice?"

Dice chuckled around the cigar. He didn't know where the Devil's new nickname for him came from, but he wasn't complaining about it. At first he had thought that the unnecessary title was foolish and embarrassing, an excuse for the gambler's and debtors to not take him seriously, but that couldn't be more wrong. If anything, people seemed to have more respect for him. It made sense though, after all, if the Devil referred to him as 'King', he must be somebody worth respecting. It wasn't long before the name caught on.

It was strange. It hadn't been all that long ago that he had been Caleb Dice, the street gambler that nobody trusted or liked. And now he was King Dice, known and respected by everybody on all three of the Inkwell Isles.

It was funny how life went sometimes.

"I've been thinking about that." Dice said. "You shouldn't have to stoop down to the level of these debtors." That would just cause people to think that the Devil felt threatened by a couple of stray debtors. It could cause an uproar. "You should send somebody else out to collect the contracts for you."

"Interesting," The Devil took back his cigar. "One of my debtors?"

"Not exactly." Dice shrugged. "Some of these creeps have gotten pretty powerful. Not just anybody will be able to take them down."

"You've got a point." The Devil said boredly.

"But we should keep an eye out for the potential we need." Dice folded up the list and got to his feet. "In the meantime, I have work to do." After all, _somebody_ had to make sure the casino floor was running smoothly.

"See if you can collect anymore soul contracts." The Devil leaned comfortably back in his seat. "You've been getting good at that."

Dice smirked. "Any better and I could run you out of the business."

The Devil chuckled. "I'd like to see you try."

"Maybe later." Dice bowed to his boss and left the office. He didn't truly have any intentions of taking over the Devil's business, he was more than content just to work for him. Dice didn't mean to be arrogant, but he was fairly certain that he was the closest to being the Devil's equal that any mortal had ever been, and at the moment, that was good enough for him.

The Devil was right though, Dice _had_ been getting better at collecting soul contracts. As far as he knew, the Devil had been the only one with the power to make a deal like that. Since the Devil had given magic to Dice, even though he was a mortal, he had been able to do all kinds of things. It had been a pleasant surprise for both of them when they had realized that Dice could make a deal involving a soul contract.

Dice had always had an easier time than most telling when a gambler was getting desperate enough to sell their soul away, and now, he could collect the soul himself. He could practically do the entirety of the Devil's job for him, and for a right hand man, that wasn't half bad.

Dice walked out onto the casino floor and wasn't surprised to see that there weren't very many gamblers out. It was still fairly early, and there were rarely more than a handful of gamblers around at this time. But just because there weren't many of them didn't mean that none of the gamblers were worth attention.

"Is there anybody interesting out?" Dice asked as he walked up to Mr. Wheezy, who was usually the one in charge on the floor when neither Dice nor the Devil were there.

Mr. Wheezy shrugged. "Depends what you mean by interesting." The cigar gestured towards the craps tables. "A couple of kids are here."

Dice frowned slightly. "What's so interesting about that? A number of gamblers bring their children along."

Mr. Wheezy shook his head. "No, I mean a couple of kids are here on their own. No parents or guardians in sight."

Dice raised an eyebrow. "Really?" He wanted to see this for himself.

Mr. Wheezy seemed to recognize that Dice was intrigued, because he led led him closer to the craps tables so he could see the kids. It didn't take Dice long to recognize the kids that Mr. Wheezy had been talking about. Two small boys stood at the table. Dice recognized their types instantly. One was more bold, outgoing, and not afraid to take a few risks. The other boy was more timid and cautious, but didn't have the guts to stand up to his brother's reckless gambling. Pairs like this were frequents at the casino, but there was something else about these boys that caught his interest.

Dice narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms. He had never seen these boys before, so this was the first time that they had ever been in the casino. There was still something about them that felt vaguely familiar, but when would he have ever encountered a pair of chinaware like them?

Chinaware...that gave him an idea.

"Keep an eye on these boys." Dice told Mr. Wheezy. "Don't let them leave." He had something to check up on.

"You got it, boss." Mr. Wheezy nodded. Dice trusted him to follow these simple directions, at least for a few minutes. It should give him the opportunity to check up on something. Dice headed back to the Devil's office. They had files in there not only on the debtors, but also on anybody of interest that lived on one of the isles, whether they were a gambler or not.

The Devil watched as Dice came into the room and began going through the files. "Are you looking for something specific?"

"...I think so." Dice pushed aside anything that had to do with debtors and gamblers. There wasn't a lot of information about those who were neither, as there were only so many people who weren't involved with the Devil that had caught his interest. There were a few though, and it didn't take Dice long to find what he was looking for.

Sure enough, after just a few minutes Dice found the file he had come in there for. Dice looked it over, and smirked. It was better than he could have hoped.

The Devil, intrigued by Dice's smug joy, came over to look at the file as well. The Devil raised an eyebrow when he saw it. "Elder Kettle? Who's this guy?"

"Right now, nobody special." Dice said as he flipped through the file. "The man is a mystery. Some say he was a knight. Some say he was an alchemist. Everybody agrees that he has access to incredible powers."

The Devil snarled. "Powers that don't come from me."

"Precisely." Dice nodded. "The old coot's as straight as they come, but it seems his grandchildren are another story."

The Devil's eyes flashed red for a moment. "A real family man, is he?"

"Absolutely." Dice agreed. "His boys just so happen to be in this casino. If they get themselves into a bit of trouble, I imagine Elder Kettle would do whatever he could to get them out of it." Even using magic that nobody had seen him use in years.

"I like the way you think." The Devil chuckled. "Go work your magic, Dice."

"I'll do my best, sir." Dice closed the file and made his way back out of the room again. If everything went well, but the end of the day not only would they be able to see for themselves just how powerful Elder Kettle's powers really were, but they might also have a solution to their missing soul contract problem.

Dice joined the boys at the craps table. "Well, well, well, how are you lads doing this afternoon?"

"Great!" The confident boy wearing red exclaimed. "We've got more money than we came here with."

"Sounds like you boys are on a roll." Dice smiled. "I'd like to see a roll for myself." Dice really wanted to see everything that the boys had up their sleeves. He had to be patient though, gain the boy's trust. Get them feeling comfortable and confident. Feed their greed until they were willing to give up anything, even their very souls. When that happened, that was when the true fun would begin.


End file.
